


Family Finds A Way

by HeartOfStars



Category: Jurassic Park - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And That Goes For Both Canons, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, Star Wars-Jurassic Park Crossover, no dinosaurs but there are krayt dragons, some scientists screw around and nobody's happy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 46
Words: 274,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21969028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartOfStars/pseuds/HeartOfStars
Summary: A month after Bespin, Luke Skywalker is investigating a possible lead in the search for Boba Fett. What he finds instead is a secret laboratory, a scientist who decided to play God, and monsters out of his worst nightmares. Oh, and of course his father also shows up at the worst possible moment to claim him once and for all.In other words, the Star Wars-Jurassic Park crossover.
Relationships: Chelli Lona Aphra & Darth Vader, Firmus Piett & Maximilian Veers, Lando Calrissian & Leia Organa, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker & Original Female Character(s), Naberrie Family & Luke Skywalker, Wedge Antilles & Luke Skywalker
Comments: 1116
Kudos: 867





	1. Before

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KaelinaLovesLomaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaelinaLovesLomaris/gifts).



> So here it is! KaelinaLovesLomaris and I dreamed up the idea almost a year ago, and I finally sat down to write the beginning to this thing. I wanted it up for Spielberg's birthday on the 18th, but work got in the way.  
> Also, just a warning: there will be a few chapters with some pretty bad violence and gore, given the nature of dinosaurs. There will be warnings on those specific chapters as they arise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter is mostly set-up, but it gets going. This part takes place just before Bespin.

L.A.R.S. No one knew what the letters stood for; laboratory of something, was all they could guess. No one knew exactly what it was meant to accomplish. All anyone knew was that it was absolutely off-limits.

The laboratory on Felucia was one of the galaxy’s most mysterious sites. Work had begun a decade previously as a study of extinct creatures, and had simply expanded after that as more materials became available. The lab existed as an anomaly for seven years, quietly furthering their strange and peculiar research under the Empire’s watchful eye. Usually their work would have been shut down, but they had an agreement to notify the Empire the moment any Rebels showed up on the planet. In exchange, they were allowed to continue the research…even when they extended their hand to more remote planets, such as Corellia, Tatooine, and Jakku. Even when they confiscated several boxes of radioactive content from Coruscant. Even when reports reached the Empire that someone at the facility had died.

The officers keeping watch over the facility grew anxious, that was for certain. They were extremely anxious. But the Rebels had recently been stopped from setting up base on Felucia thanks to the efforts of the doctors there, so they had no choice but to let the facility continue.

Then, shortly before the battle of Yavin, its doctors had gone radio silent. Naturally this was extremely suspicious, not to mention irritating for the Empire, which had not profited much from the lab to begin with. Several investigations, reports, and messages between several Star Destroyers followed, and were intercepted by the Rebel Alliance; however, many parts of these messages and reports had been redacted in the case of interception, so crucial parts of the documents were missed altogether.

 **_Captain Ramos Gilden, Accuser, Report-_ ** _Report detailing the investigation of LARS[(redacted)], located on Felucia. Considering their silence, the Empire must be certain that there is no dangerous or illegal activity {redacted]._

_——— Excerpts Enclosed———_

_Process: LARS has had more trouble acquiring [redacted]; several scientists explained this to me as the cause of the silence. It seems that they invested too much in their work, and are running short {redacted]...[]._

_Details: There has been little research—so they claimed—yet I was only allowed to see [redacted]. I interrogated three scientists(Ruseth et al) and none of them seemed to know anything. My troopers could not find anything either, despite four in-depth searches. This is most unusual. LARS used to be one of the most highly regarded centers [redacted]...but now [].._

(Note, as recorded by Mon Mothma: “Suspected to read _‘centers of weapons development’_ due to the Empire’s previous involvement on Felucia.”)

_The troopers [redacted]...seemed hostile to [redacted][redacted]...[]...had to press for information._

_Conclusion: I do not believe that LARS has as much[redacted]...due to the [redacted]. A more discreet investigation is requested._

**_Captain Ramos Gilden, Accuser, Message_ ** _\- Sent spies to LARS, located on Felucia. Have yet to hear a report back; last I heard they had arrived safely._

 **_Li’set Firestar, Agent, to Accuser, Message-_ ** _Scientists participate in [redacted] every two weeks concerning [redacted]. They are...[redacted]...for [redacted]. Investigation is worthless, except perhaps to watch [redacted] should they do something desperate. They certainly seemed frantic._

 **_Captain Ramos Gilden, Accuser, Message-_ ** _It has been nine months since anyone on the Accuser has had thoughts of Felucia and the LARS, but several troopers stationed at our base have [redacted]. There are signs of [blurred, believed to read ‘attacks’]...considering recent events, we thought it might be the Rebels; but the signs point to the attack of [redacted]._

 _Conclusion: Investigation should be reopened; request to transfer investigation, as the_ Accuser _is busy with Rebels on Crait. They are more troublesome than previously anticipated._

Therefore, a change of leadership followed, from Gilden to Zurnet, who had been in charge of the _Imperator_ for the last year or so.

 **_Captain Aliya Zurnet, Imperator, Update-_ ** _Investigation continues two months following the previous report; the Imperator is formally taking over for_ Accuser _. The [redacted] have grown agitated; it is our belief that [redacted]. We should not fund them; the Empire is not worth this measly research, which is mostly concerning [redacted]._

 **_Captain Aliya Zurnet, Imperator, Message-_ ** _Investigation has been prolonged; another trooper vanished. Grundy Pandaki...[redacted] of LARS, has been questioned, and his answers are not forthcoming. Had to exert mild force to make him talk. The operation is going to do something desperate to gain money, and must be shut down immediately._

 **_Captain Aliya Zurnet, Imperator, Report-_ ** _Report detailing a further investigation of LARS, located in Felucia._

_——— Excerpts Enclosed———_

_Process: Four more troopers have been [redacted]. The Imperator does not have the resources to deal with the problem; several squadrons were taken out in an attack by [redacted]...suspected that [L. Skywalker, W. Antilles, et al]...[redacted]...LARS does not take precedence over our own fleet._

_Conclusion: If the LARS case is considered important, a better equipped Destroyer should take over control of its investigation. If not, we could use some help keeping the rest of our resources intact before our position is lost._

There was again a change of leadership.

 **_Captain Firmus Piett, Executor, Update-_ ** _Executor is currently taking over for the Imperator in regard to the LARS case. I will take a garrison of troopers and investigate the facility myself before making a final decision._

_[rest of update redacted, despite efforts by Alliance spies to dissect it]_

**_Captain Firmus Piett, Executor-_ ** _I have investigated LARS. There is indeed much suspicious activity, and one of my troopers was not with us when we departed. I suspect he [redacted]. My recommendation is one more investigation to determine if the facility should be shut down completely._

_Notes/Warnings: Proceed with caution. [Redacted]...hostile, and the deaths of [redacted]._

Afterward followed another change of leadership, not from Destroyer to Destroyer, but from Captain to Captain, as Piett was granted a higher position(which, as many believed, was bound to get him killed eventually).

 **_Captain Kieron Venka, Executor-_ ** _Report detailing the final investigation into LARS._

_Process: Investigated the site of the dead troopers first; found no evidence that the attacks [redacted]. Some accident must [redacted] at LARS. The [redacted]...almost hostile until I threatened them with arrest and formal interrogation on the Executor; then they complied immediately, but the fact that they required such threats suggests to me that the facility is both too worthless and too dangerous an investment to continue. I could only enter two rooms; they would not show me anything else._

_Conclusion: This could become a problem if it continues. The Empire should shut down LARS immediately. Seeing as Felucia is in close proximity to several military bases, I suggest that the research be shut down and transformed into a hospital. In this way, the Empire will stand to gain something from this entire situation._

_Notes/Warnings: No need to report these dealings to Lord Vader. Once LARS is shut down, the situation will resolve itself. [Redacted] is trivial compared to our dealings with the Rebels._

This was the end of the Alliance’s investigation, since it revealed almost nothing about this LARS facility besides that it might be manufacturing weapons, that a few Stormtroopers had died(expected, if this was a weapons facility), and that it was consequently being shut down. Therefore, the Alliance terminated all investigation into the facility and turned their attention to (supposedly) more important things.

That, as will later be found, was a grave mistake.

Following this series of exchanges, which spanned the years 18 BBY to 3 ABY(according to the modern calendar), and just after the interception, a garrison of Stormtroopers was dispatched to the jungle planet Felucia to order that the officers at LARS shut down their facility within the next week.

“You can’t be serious!” Doctor Pandaki, the Muun in charge of the facility, was not a creature of strong opinions; but he was passionate about his work, and had fought for it with every credit of his earnings for twenty years. “I have dedicated years of work to the Empire, and just when things are getting better, they demand I leave? I will not have it. I have grandchildren, I have children, I—“

“There hasn’t been any indication that things were ‘getting better,’” the unit commander told him coldly. “The Empire has given you many chances, more than you deserved, and you failed to save your facility. We grant you a week.”

“A week! The Empire used to invest far more in their partnerships!”

“In case you’re unaware, _Doctor,_ the Empire is in the middle of civil war. Your small investment is nothing compared to our imminent victory. We’ve almost discovered the whereabouts of the pilot who started all this mess, along with most of the other Rebels, and Lord Vader isn’t going to let up now.” The trooper held Pandaki’s gaze. “You can complain to him if you’d like.” He signaled with a fist to the rest of his unit. “Move out.”

As one unit, the two dozen Stormtroopers turned to leave.

“No! No!” Pandaki cried desperately. “I beg you! Please—give me a second chance—“

But if there was anything certain about the Galactic Empire, it was that they did not give second chances. Without another word, the Stormtroopers marched into the distance, leaving Pandaki standing alone in the jungle.

If they had stayed another moment, they would have seen the look of despair in Pandaki’s eyes turn into one of deep, burning hatred. 

  
  


Several weeks passed, and the unit of Stormtroopers never spoke of it; they couldn’t, as they were all members of Death Squadron and had been ordered to squash the Rebels’ base, wherever it would be found. And there was nothing that these troopers wished for more than the death of the Rebellion. 

However, there was one, Number ZD-3991, whose roommate during his days of training had been one of the troopers who had disappeared on Felucia. No one would give exact answers--and investigation was strictly forbidden--but ZD-3991 knew that his old roommate had been killed. 

And judging by the claw marks on the ground, which he had spotted and which no one else had, he knew the culprit was some kind of monster. 

He couldn’t investigate the matter immediately; just days after the incident, their unit--among others--was deployed to Hoth to crush the Rebels. It was considered both a success and a failure; the base was destroyed, but many transports, not to mention a good handful of pilots, had escaped.

And the Empire demanded complete success.

This was, perhaps, not the best of times for ZD-3991 to seek an audience with Captain Venka regarding the situation at the facility, but he had waited long enough. For his entire career, he had been stoic, precise, and ruthless; exactly what the Empire wanted from its soldiers. He had been the perfect Stormtrooper, the perfect man that anyone could count on, but most of his lessons had been learned from AS-0891, the trooper who had vanished on Felucia. 

He would allow this kind of emotion, just once. 

Afterward--and amidst the search for the Rebel fleet, which was at the moment somewhere near the Outer Rim--ZD-3991 found someone to cover his post and went wandering across the _Executor._ (Given the Star Destroyer’s enormous size, this took longer than he had thought.) At last, he decided to press his luck and head to the bridge. It was a fifty-fifty shot of survival. If Lord Vader was there, his mere presence--unannounced, unplanned for, and certainly forbidden--would likely result in his immediate death. If not...he might at least get the closure of seeing his old friend’s _body._

It would be marred and barely recognizable, but it would be closure. 

ZD-3991 looked round the corner, scanning the bridge, heart pounding so loudly he was surprised no one could hear it. 

Vader was nowhere to be seen. 

But that did not mean he wasn’t there. 

Still, ZD-3991 pressed his luck and marched forward, trying to look as if he had been sent for. Venka was standing there, speaking to several other officers; with a relieved sigh, ZD-3991 approached his superior and stood at attention. 

Venka glanced up and around, and did a double take at the sight of a Stormtrooper standing on the bridge. 

“ZD-3991,” said the trooper immediately, knowing that perfect observance of protocol would go a long way in his favor. “I apologize, sir; I know I’m not supposed to be here at all, but there’s something I--”

“Not now!” snapped Venka. “You could have come to my office later, any time but now!”

“Sir, with all due respect,” said ZD-3991 desperately, “it’s about LARS.”

Venka shook his head. “That old place again? Everyone is altogether too concerned about it! It’s nothing, a trifle--really, compared to what we’re dealing with at present. Whatever it is, trooper, it can wait.”

“Again, with all due respect, I don’t think it can. There’s something I think you should consider. When I was there, I came across a series of tracks, nothing native to Felucia--”

“ZD-3991!” Venka hissed, ignoring how the rest of the bridge suddenly seemed to fall silent. “This is a final warning, you will--”

“I think those scientists are breeding dragons!”

“Dragons,” Venka echoed numbly. “Dragons? But they’re extinct!”

“I know,” ZD-3991 said, shaking his head. “It seemed impossible to me, as well--but the tracks matched perfectly. And I think they were responsible for the deaths of several troopers.”

Venka was silent for several seconds. 

“This is ridiculous,” he said at last. “Dragons are extinct, there are none on Felucia, and we’ve scoured the facility several times. I suppose I’ll look into it--there’s the chance it could be true--but orders come first. You know that.”

ZD-3991 nodded dejectedly. 

“And our orders are to reach the planet Bespin within the hour,” said Venka. “Besides, this is unheard of--dangerous! For a Stormtrooper to enter the bridge in the middle of an operation--if Lord Vader ever heard of it--”

“If I ever heard of _what?”_

The commanding voice of Darth Vader was a sound all Stormtroopers knew by instinct; and ZD-3991 immediately knew what was going to happen.

That did not stop him from being terrified out of his mind. 

He turned round, trying to keep himself from shaking, Venka with him. Vader towered over both of them, the very picture of horror.

 _Why did I have to be assigned to_ his _ship?_

A moment later, there was a blinding pain in his neck. Then he felt nothing.

“Captain Venka,” said Vader, sounding calm, but Venka was no fool. He knew the undercurrent of fury that was always there, that had to be stronger now; two officers had died already since they had left Hoth, one for failing to capture the _Millennium Falcon._ “Would you like to explain to me why a _Stormtrooper_ has interrupted your...concentration?”

“It was my mistake, my lord,” said Venka, wishing desperately that he had listened when the entire damn crew had fallen silent; that should have made the situation obvious, but he’d been too annoyed to think. “I allowed him here--don’t know what he was thinking, really, I thought he might have been injured after the battle--something was wrong with him.”

Vader studied him for several seconds, during which Venka remembered that his daughter had sent him a message--he’d never replied, and she would never know. She would think he was ignoring her, as she’d said to him the last time he had seen her…

 _She’s still upset I didn’t let her join the Academy,_ he thought desperately. _It’s only because I love her, really--_

“You had better hope we reach Bespin in a _timely_ manner,” Vader said at last, and Venka was so relieved he barely stayed on his feet. Why had he been spared? Captain Needa had been killed for far less…

But Vader said nothing more about it. Without a word, he stalked away from Venka and toward the viewport, where he stood for a long time, staring out at the stars. 


	2. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now we get our introduction to Luke and company! Lots of post-Bespin pain, as well as delving into LARS from the Rebels' side of things.

_“No._ I _am your father.”_

 _Luke falls, spinning endlessly through the depths of the pit, the wind pulling at him, his wrist burning with fire—he never knew a hit from a lightsaber would hurt so_ much— _wind blowing past him and through him, screaming in his ears—but it’s nothing compared to the screaming in his mind. Nothing compared to the truth—_

_Not true._

_“You are not a Jedi yet.”_

_Those words, spoken so threateningly, so menacingly, should have warned him from the beginning. Yet he hadn’t heeded them._

_And now things were worse._

_“Don’t make me destroy you.”_

_Destroy you. The words echo, again and again, as he falls through a chute—falls, and doesn’t die. A miracle. But he barely notices—there’s no relief, only a drive to keep moving. Keep moving away, because so many times Vader had vanished on him and then reappeared when he thought he was safe—_

_“Join me—”_

_Movement below him, the ground vanishes—he falls—_

_But does not land on the weathervane._

_Instead, he’s standing in a long hallway; a white one, looking clean and perfect, stretching out beyond his vision—but with shadows that curl around him, just like the city in the clouds. All he can see is what is directly in front of him._

_He moves forward, two steps…and something whispers in the dark._

_Vader?_

_Luke turns his head, reaches for his father’s lightsaber—but that’s right, it’s gone. And he doesn’t have a hand—it’s a burning stump, sending screaming pains through his mind once again. He slumps back against the wall--_

_“They didn’t even ask me any questions.”_

_Not Vader’s voice. Han’s._

_Han. Forgetting his own pain, Luke moves forward eagerly. He’s been given a chance, a do-over—a chance to save Han and get him out of here._

_“Luke?”_

_It’s coming from the room in front of him—a dark space, a room, and Han is in there. Being tortured? Frozen in carbonite? It’s hard to guess, but Luke is going to save him, and he might not have much time. The shadows around him seem to lengthen, but he pays them no attention._

_“Han!” Luke bursts into the room, reaching for his blaster—but he doesn’t draw it. There’s nothing to grab with—nothing happens. Nothing, aside for an agonizing, exploding pain in his wrist._

_Horrified, he raises his left arm. That hand is gone as well._

_“Han?” he whispers into the shadows._

_And they respond, with a chilling hiss he’s only heard once before. The sound of Vader’s breathing. In...out. In...out. Like a sentient wind, breathing down his neck and watching his every move--_

_“No,” Luke whispers, stumbling back. “No!”_

_“My son.”_

_The voice seems to come from all around him at once, echoing through him—and then, at last, the shadows recede, revealing the terrifying form of the monster who’s haunted his every move, who looms over him._

_“Get away from me!” he demands, but his voice shakes._

_“No.” One of Vader’s hands extends, reaching out—there are claws at the end, or at least it looks that way. Reaching for him. “You cannot hide from me—you will never hide, never again. Because—”_

_“No,” Luke breathes, even as the claws tear down the side of his face. But for some reason, he doesn’t scream. He’s powerless even to do that, powerless against the cold, bloodthirsty monster who is somehow his--_

_“Because…” Vader seems to take pleasure in this, taunting him with it, drawing it out so he’s forced to relive it again—“Because I am your_ father.”

Three times. 

Three times, thought Luke as he sat up, gasping and shaking and feeling desperately to make sure both his hands were still attached. Three times now he’d had this particular nightmare, a somehow _worse_ alternative to what had actually happened, and it didn’t show any signs of going away. 

Well. At least he wasn’t waking up screaming any longer. 

But the problem was, he couldn’t tell if it was just a nightmare, some other effect of his trauma...or a warning. A vision, of something that was going to happen. He’d spent nights trying to figure it out, trying to remember if he’d been in those corridors before or if they were an echo of Bespin, forcing himself to _remember_ what had happened on Bespin to make sure this wasn’t just a memory; but something stopped him from thinking further each time. 

It was the fact that the last time he’d seen a vision like that, trying to stop it had destroyed him. 

“Luke?”

Luke turned his head; Wedge was sitting up, blinking bleary-eyed at him. 

“Morning, Wedge,” he said, trying to sound better than he felt. “Sleep well?”

It didn’t seem to convince his friend. Wedge narrowed his eyes at him, but seemed to recognize that pressing matters would just make things worse. 

“Well enough,” he said. “You?”

“Fine,” Luke said, staring straight ahead. He hadn’t, of course; the nightmare had only come after hours of staying up, testing his hand, running through plans, doing _anything_ to avoid sleep. And it had come anyway. 

_Don’t make me destroy you._

Luke shuddered, focusing on Wedge’s face to get Darth Vader’s death mask out of his mind. It worked marginally. 

He’d thought, at the time, that Vader had meant it in a physical sense; _don’t make me kill you,_ it had seemed to mean. _Don’t make me injure you so terribly you can never stand again._

The real meaning was far worse. 

Because Vader _had_ destroyed him. Just not in the way Luke had ever imagined.

“Luke? Hey!” Luke realized Wedge was snapping his fingers in front of his face, and he was jolted back to the present. 

“I’m fine, Wedge,” Luke said. “Just...spaced out for a minute.”

Wedge sighed. “Don’t lie to me, Luke. You had a flashback again, didn’t you?”

The tension deflated from Luke’s shoulders; he’d lied to everyone about so much, it was getting difficult to keep even the little things to himself. 

“Sort of?” He ran a hand through his hair. “I guess it was that...and something else.”

“Something else?” Wedge frowned. “Like what?”

For a moment, all Luke could see was the long corridor, Vader’s hands that had grown claws; a classic nightmare. But rooted in truth. 

In the past weeks, it has been constant escape. Get away get away get away, like helpless.prey running from a predator. And he hated it. It wasn't _in him_ to run. But whenever that cold grasping touch came through the Force...sometimes accompanied by the awful voice, in his _mind_ where he couldn't escape unless he fled to a system lightyears away...there was nothing to do but run. 

“I...don’t know,” he said. “It’s confusing, I don’t know if I could explain it.”

Wedge raised an eyebrow. They both knew he could explain it; but by now it was common knowledge he _wouldn’t._ After numerous occasions of Luke waking up screaming, of Wedge trying to comfort him, the other pilot had learned that no matter how hard he tried, no matter how miserable his roommate was, he would get no information on what had happened at Bespin. 

“And this is the first time you’ve had it?” Wedge asked instead. 

Luke shook his head. “No. Three nights in a row.”

“Three nights?” Wedge repeated incredulously. “How much have you even slept?”

Luke shrugged, resisting the urge to yawn. “Enough.”

Wedge opened his mouth, but before he could speak--probably some kind of demand for Luke to go straight back to bed--there was a knock on the door. He looked up; Luke jumped, his mind having jumped straight back to the gantry on Bespin, the last words of the nightmare ringing through his head. 

“Come in,” Wedge called softly. 

The door opened, but it was just Hobbie. Luke relaxed slightly. 

“Morning,” he said. 

“Morning,” Hobbie said with a grin. “I didn’t wake you two up or anything, did I?”

“No, we’ve been up for hours,” Luke said with a touch of sarcasm. 

“Good. The Princess wants to see you,” Hobbie said. 

Wedge frowned. “Both of us?”

“Well, the whole squadron, but you’re the last to know.”

“Why’s that?” Luke wanted to know.

“She wanted you to get some sleep,” Hobbie joked. 

They all laughed, but Luke’s laughter was forced. There was some truth in that; everyone was walking on eggshells around him, he could tell. They hadn’t wanted to make him do anything at the drop of a hat. After what he’d gone through, and what he still wouldn’t tell him, they were afraid he was still traumatized from his ordeal on Bespin. 

And he was. They just didn’t know why. 

Leia hadn’t said a word since calling Rogue Squadron into a neglected office in the southeast wing of the base on Atollon. It had been almost a month, but she was still seeing Han everywhere--last night had been especially bad. With Lando departing to scout out a potential location of Boba Fett’s, the _Falcon_ was gone. She’d known he had to go, and she’d told him as much. What she hadn’t said was that she’d taken to sleeping in Han’s ship from time to time, because even if he was gone, she could still smell him there, could still... _feel_ him, somehow. 

Lando had to find Fett. He had to, because then they would find Han...and if he didn’t...if he didn’t…

Then it meant Han was already in Jabba’s possession, and the job of rescuing him would be a thousand times harder. If not impossible. 

Love was so _stupid,_ she thought angrily. She hadn't had a single romantic feeling for Han Kriffing Solo before the Empire attacked on Hoth; sure, she'd liked him as a person, respected his skill, even enjoyed his wit...but there had been nothing _there,_ romantically speaking. At least, not on her part; and besides, even when something might have happened, Luke had always been there to cool them down. She'd liked that about him; he was as full of passion as they were, but always at the right time. Then he was gone, off becoming a Jedi. Then the tension between them had just exploded, partly due to Luke's absence, partly due to being stuck in a stressful situation; she'd realized she did love him, more than she'd ever loved anyone...and, of course, _then_ he had been taken from her. 

And for some reason, she was beginning to suspect that today would be another false lead. Another day it was more likely she would never see Han Solo again. 

Several minutes had passed, during which she tried to keep all manner of expression from her face in front of Rogue Squadron, before Leia felt something that would have been impossible to describe; it was a feeling of _hope,_ of brilliant, focused light, and she knew immediately that Luke was coming. 

A moment later, the door opened, and he stepped inside, followed by Klivian and Antilles. Across the room, their eyes met, and sudden anger filled her chest. Each time she saw her friend now she wanted to murder Vader herself for what he’d done; because where Luke was still light, still full of hope and optimism, it was so _subdued._ Luke didn’t even know he still projected that image of hope; he had never said anything, but she just _knew,_ every time he was in the room with her, how torn up he was by guilt and shame and...and...something else.

“Well,” she said, trying to ignore the bantha in the room that was Bespin. “Now that you’re all here, I’ll explain why.” 

“Why?” Hobbie echoed. “You mean we need an excuse to share your company, Princess?”

Several of the other Rogues laughed. 

“Of course not,” Leia said with a smile, trying to ignore the fact that that was exactly the kind of thing Han would have said. Luke wasn’t laughing, either. “This is about something that happened just before the attack on Hoth. We didn’t think it was of any consequence before, so we didn’t tell any of you.”

Luke fidgeted uncomfortably at that, but for once, Leia had no guess as to why.

“I, actually, only found out the details last week. It has to do with a facility stationed on the planet of Felucia,” Leia said, laying some papers down on the table in front of them. “These were intercepted from the Empire several months after our victory at Yavin, but they date back as early as half a year before that.” Several of the Rogues edged forward, but she raised her hands. “You can take a closer look later, but for the moment what you need to know is that this facility is what kept us from getting anywhere near the planet for years. If they even caught wind of a Rebel ship, they’d pass that information on to the Empire.”

There were several murmurs of anger from the Rogues; she could understand why. She was angry, too. But still Luke hadn’t said a word. 

“So they were with the Empire?” That was Kelchu; Leia had only spoken to him a few times, but she had an almost superhuman knack for remembering names. 

“No,” Leia said--more muttering. “They weren’t, and most of our spies are convinced that this _facility_ was engaging in some kind of illegal activity. Passing information about us to the Empire was the only way that they stayed in business.”

“Pardon me for asking, Your Highness,” said Antilles, “but what does this have to do with us?”

“Because the facility is being shut down,” Leia explained. “As of yesterday, everything was supposed to be gone. The Empire’s vanished from the planet, so there won’t be any danger there. They aren’t destroying the building; instead they’re changing it into a hospital. Several of our wounded troops stationed in that sector are already being transferred tomorrow--and that’s where you come in. Six of you will fly out there, make sure they arrive safely, and report back. 

“It could be dangerous,” she warned them. “The Empire isn’t on Felucia, but they’re hunting for us now more than ever. You’ll have to be careful to get in and out; but we need to know if we can use the hospital for our own men in the future. Apparently any patients are going to receive better care than almost anywhere else in the galaxy; the staff is legendary.”

It was amazing how such a statement could change the atmosphere. Before, the Rogues had been tense and curious; now, with such an incentive, the murmurs changed to light encouragement, optimism about the fight against the Empire. One of the Rebellion’s struggles from the beginning had been a lack of professionals equipped to deal with injuries; even a hospital on a different world could prove instrumental. 

“You won’t have to do it more than once,” Leia said, “because you’re in demand more than any of our other squadrons, due to your talent and prestige. We just need to know if these injured men can be transported once.”

“Well then, I’ll go,” Janson said immediately. “I’ve got a friend who was injured in that sector--”

“Wait,” Leia said with a smile. “Before you all jump on it, I need a few minutes with Commander Skywalker.”

Only Luke looked surprised at that; she didn’t understand why, since it was well known that the two of them had a history together. Slowly, the rest of the Rogues cleared out, Antilles taking a few moments to whisper something to Luke that at least made her friend smile. 

“You look terrible,” she said once they were alone. 

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Do you always have to start conversations with an insult?”

“Only to my friends.” Leia sighed. “Listen, Luke, I know you don’t want to go anywhere near the Empire, but--”

“You want me to go.”

Leia blinked. “Yes. How did you know?”

“Just a feeling. But I was going to go anyway.”

A second surprise. She knew he was having nightmares about Vader just about every night, and she wouldn’t have wanted any kind of encounter with the man after that; but then, Luke was different. Luke kept doing things even if they didn’t seem logical... _especially_ if they didn’t seem logical, she amended. 

“I can’t stay here, Leia,” he said, as if sensing her doubt--he probably was sensing it, she realized. “Locked up in this base, with nothing to do but get used to my new hand? Wait for Lando to get back?” He sighed. “People are saying I’m different, I’ve lost my edge or something since Bespin; I don’t know what, but I want to get it back.”

“I understand,” Leia said. “I...I know how you feel.” There was this _hole_ between them that had never been there, this gulf that neither of them could cross, and she knew it was partly due to Han being gone. 

Luke tilted his head. “But why do _you_ want me to go, Leia?”

“Because Han’s not on Florrum,” she said. “I know, I know I sent him there, our spies told us Fett was there...but he isn’t. I just...for some reason, I just know it. Why would he go all the way out there before arriving on Tatooine? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“So you think he’s on Felucia,” Luke said. There was some look in his eyes, something distant; Leia’s closest guess, this time, was that he was thinking about Han. 

“Not exactly...oh, I don’t know.” Leia ran a hand through her hair; absent-mindedly, she realized it was something she’d seen Luke do before. “But _somewhere_ in the area. Yes. It’s a stronghold of the Empire; they’re not on Felucia, but on just about every surrounding planet. Maybe Fett doesn’t think he stands a chance of getting Han to Tatooine without getting caught. It’s just a feeling, but it’s a strong one.”

“Then I’ll do it,” Luke said, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “Leia, you know that I--”

“Don’t say you feel guilty,” she said, putting a hand over his mouth. “Please. Please, don’t say it, because it’s not your fault.” She stalked away, hands clenched into fists at her sides. “It’s _Vader’s_ fault. That monster did this to you, to me, to Han, and the most we can do against him now is get Han back!” 

“I understand, Leia,” Luke said, looking more withdrawn now than she had seen him yet; she wished he would _just tell her,_ already, but she could never make him. It would hurt him too much, and right now he was all she had. “What do you want me to do out there?”

“Split off from the rest of Rogue Squadron, if that’s all right with them,” she told him. “If there’s no danger so far; scout around for any sign of Fett, report back to me, and come right back.” She looked him in the eye. “ _Right back._ No detours, no chasing down Imperials, no joyrides through old trade routes--”

Luke looked offended. “That was one time!”

“One time too many,” Leia shot back, though she was feeling a bit lighter now. “Maybe it’s a good thing Han’s gone, he was affecting you too much!”

Luke laughed. “No detours, I promise.” He gave her a hug, and she returned it eagerly. “A quick mission, there and back...and maybe Han _will_ be there. Then we’ll all be back together again. If the Force is with us.”

“Well, the Force is always with you,” Leia teased him lightly. 

She’d said something wrong; a haunted look passed over Luke’s face.

“Don’t say that, Leia,” he said. “The Force _isn’t_ always with me, and I’ve got Bespin to prove it.” 


	3. First Iteration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rogues arrive on Felucia; meanwhile on the Executor, the truth starts to come out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout-out to the spectacular KaelinaLovesLomaris for reading this over first!

“It’s been one month since we sent a garrison to LARS to shut it down. The scientists weren’t too happy about it, they protested and cursed, but they did it eventually. The building is being used as a hospital instead, which might benefit us, but...now, we have a new problem.” Captain Venka sighed heavily. “The Rebels have taken the opportunity to treat their  _ own  _ men there.”

Blinking through eyes bleary from a lack of sleep, Admiral Firmus Piett took a long drink, rubbed his face, and looked up at Venka.

“Let me see if I understand this,” he said slowly, “A simple garrison of Stormtroopers is unable to handle a few rogue scientists, an abandoned facility, and a...a  _ hospital?  _ Never mind that they’re Rebels, this isn’t exactly a war zone--this is for the  _ sick  _ and the  _ elderly! _ ” Piett let out an incredulous laugh, more from anxiety than anything else. “This is what’s delaying me from bringing some very important reports to Lord Vader?”

Venka sighed. “I understand, Piett. But my own officers have been troubling me about this for weeks, and--”

“And you, I suppose, have more important things than this? More important duties than  _ I  _ do? I’m responsible for everything that has happened the past month, Lord Vader is counting on me to get dozens of jobs done and it is a miracle I’m not dead yet!” 

Piett ran a weary hand through his hair; the hand was shaking, he realized, and he forced it still. He’d barely slept at all the last week, hardly closed his eyes...no, forget the past  _ week,  _ things had been miserable since Bespin. First he’d  _ failed,  _ many more times than were appropriate for the admiral of the  _ Executor.  _ Then, miraculously, his life had been spared, and he had thought that that was a sign that Lord Vader would be more merciful with the crew; but within the next day, he knew he was wrong. The atmosphere on the  _ Executor  _ was a thousand times more tense than it had been  _ before  _ the  _ Falcon  _ escaped. Vader had been in a foul mood ever since then, and the entire crew was suffering for it. He had never touched Piett himself; but he’d come close. Once Piett had been several minutes late getting reports on the Rebels’ current position that Vader had been most eager to receive--the fault was that of a young officer, who had been swiftly demoted--and there had been several seconds of sheer terror when he realized he couldn’t breathe. 

Then Vader had let him go and gone off to kill the very same officer who was at fault. Somehow, he’d known about it without even being told. 

There hadn’t been any more incidents like that, but two more officers had died, both having failed to gather information about the Rebels’ location(once again). Then had come the failure of Captain Lorenz, who had received word that the  _ Millennium Falcon  _ had been spotted just a system away...but had neglected to inform Vader until the ship was long gone. 

That particular incident had been just four days after Bespin; and Piett felt the worst for Lorenz. Vader had been angry enough that he had severed both of the captain’s arms, first, before allowing him to die. 

The entire crew had pretended not to hear his screams. 

And in the weeks since, Piett had been dreading every interaction with Vader. So far he hadn’t been killed; but several reports needed to reach the man, and the only thing stopping him from succeeding was an insignificant captain who couldn’t even handle a few Rebels--and injured ones, at that. 

“Lord Vader wants reports on the location of the Rebel base, and some of our spies have delivered,” Piett said icily. “I am going to deliver them to him,  _ now,  _ regardless of what you want.”

“I-I understand,” Venka said, “but--”

“But nothing.” Piett got to his feet, taking a last drink of caf. “You’re capable, Captain Venka. You can figure this out on your own.”

And without another word, he turned and walked quickly back to the bridge.

  
  


“All right, we’re coming up on Felucia,” Luke announced to the rest of Rogue Squadron. “Careful with your landing. Remember, this isn’t a battle; there’s a cruiser carrying twenty of our own injured soldiers that’s flying with us.”

They’d had to shift the formation in order to effectively protect the cruiser; the result was that three fighters were in front, three on each side of the cruiser, and three in back. 

“We haven’t run into any Imps yet, but that doesn’t mean we won’t.” Tycho Celchu’s voice came through the comm system. “They used to have a base on Felucia.”

“Thanks, Rogue Nine,” Luke said. “Yeah, we have to be careful about that too; stay sharp.” 

“You work at the base yourself?” Of course that was Wedge.

“Just for a few weeks,” was all Tycho would say.

“Oh, so you’re thinking of betraying us again, is that why you volunteered to come?”

There was a long silence, and then: “Shut up, Wedge.”

The entire squadron laughed. 

“All right, all right,” Luke said, but he was smiling; how long had it been since he’d felt like this? “We’re coming in.”

The planet of Felucia loomed ahead. Well,  _ loomed  _ wasn’t, perhaps, the right word; but for a reason Luke couldn’t explain, he had a sense that something was going to happen. Still, it was most likely his nerves from the past few weeks. Felucia was one of the most beautiful planets Luke had ever seen. Even from space, he could see faint spots of bright color below, pinks and blues and yellows, dots in a sea of brilliant green...it looked like a paradise. 

_ Bespin looked like a paradise, too,  _ a little voice whispered.  _ And you remember what happened there… _

_ Winds whipping pipes hissing in out in out I can’t do this much longer machinery flying in out in out knocked down don’t make me destroy you wrist on fire  _ I am your father  _ falling-- _

“Luke?”

Luke’s eyes snapped open. Not again--he’d thought he was past this!

“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head and trying to pretend like he wasn’t trembling in the cockpit. “Sorry about that. All right, let’s go.”

  
  


Felucia was even more beautiful from the ground. Luke could tell in an instant that it had never been thoroughly populated. It was covered in rich grass, forests, and fields full of beautiful plants. There was a road of some kind; but it had never been paved, and in some places the plants grew over it completely. 

“So,” said Wedge, looking at the impressive field of plants and trees. The officers who’d come with them walked behind, pushing the injured soldiers along on stretchers. “Anyone got a guess where this hospital is?”

“I don’t know,” Luke said, scratching his head. “It should be somewhere around here, but--”

_ Lemme tell you, kid, you ever go to Felucia and you’ll be there for the next twelve years. There’s nothing to do, nowhere to be--and no one there to be with you. There’s a reason the Empire left that mudhole, the place is impossible to map, and there was no one there. You could just get yourself a place to stay and do whatever the hell you wanted. It’s a dream.  _

Han. Right. That’s why he was here. 

“This way,” he said, marching resolutely forward. 

“Where’s he going?” he heard Hobbie ask behind him.

“To the hospital,” he said over his shoulder. “I realized where it is.”

“And that would be…?” Hobbie spread his arms. “Where?”

Luke smiled, feeling some of his old mischief come back. “I don’t know.”

Hobbie let out a long groan.

“The Force strikes again,” Tycho said with a grin.

“We’re headed this way,” Luke called over his shoulders to the officers. “It shouldn’t be far.”

Of course, he had no idea where the hospital was; but the instant he thought about Han, he’d known that the building was close. And, although he hadn’t said a word to the Rogues about it, that gave him hope...what if it meant something more? 

What if Han  _ was  _ here? 

That thought kept him going as he took them on a path through the jungle. It wasn’t a straight path by any means; it wasn’t even a logical one, as he walked down the road, turned right through the plants, turned in a circle, walked back on the road, and then went in the opposite direction. But it was the right path, he could sense it--

In fact, he was so keen on sensing it that he almost missed a rather large spike plant pitching toward him. 

“Luke!” Wedge shouted behind him, and he jumped out of the way just in time. The spike plant crashed to the ground and lay there, green spores floating away. And there was something else about it…

“Whew, that was close,” Wedge panted from behind. “I swear, I didn’t see that thing until it was almost…” He trailed off. “Luke? Luke, what’s wrong?”

Luke was bending over the plant, looking at a very peculiar mark on its underside. He hadn’t seen it before, but he had seen something very similar to it, a long time ago, when he was growing up on Tatooine. It looked like...like…

Like a krayt dragon’s bite. 

But that was impossible. Not only did they not live on Felucia, it was too small for the bite of a krayt. It  _ was  _ large enough for the greater krayts, but they’d gone extinct several hundred years ago. 

And yet...this was here. 

“Luke?”

Luke raised his head, looking past the fallen spike plant. Beyond it, on the jungle floor, there were some very faint animal prints. And they were larger than those of any creature he’d seen in his life. 

“Commander Skywalker!”

He frowned, shaking his head, and slowly turned to Wedge. “Hey, I thought I told you never to call me that.”

Wedge spread his arms in a universal gesture of  _ let’s go, you idiot. _

“All right, all right.” Luke turned away from the spike plant and back to the road. “Let’s...let’s keep going.”

_ You’re imagining things. You’ve just been nervous since Bespin; there are all kinds of weird creatures on Felucia! Relax, Skywalker.  _

He risked one last glance at the gigantic prints before turning back to his path.

  
  


“Admiral Piett.”

The dark rumble of Vader’s voice, as always, sent chills up and down Piett’s spine, but Piett forced himself to swallow and stand up straight, as if a rod were holding his spine in place. 

“Yes, my lord.”

“You were supposed to deliver  _ those  _ reports to me an hour ago,” Vader snapped, snatching the papers away with a sudden viciousness that made Piett flinch. “What was the delay?”

“My apologies, my lord--” Vader respected honesty, though even that was fickle these days; Piett decided to risk it. “I had an unexpected delay from some...idiotic captain, who insisted on complaining to me about a hospital on Felucia--”

“Venka,” Vader rumbled darkly. 

Piett blinked. “You...know about this?”

“Unfortunately. The man was tasked with emptying a facility of scientists, and yet it appears he cannot even do  _ that  _ correctly.” 

Without further ado, Vader began paging through the reports. 

“It’s not just about that,” Piett sighed, relieved that Vader seemed to share some of his sentiments, at least. “The facility is empty, and it’s been turned into a hospital; but the Rebels are going to use it for their own--”

“What?” 

The question was barked out in what appeared to be shock, and at the same time the reports fell to the ground. 

“The  _ Rebels,”  _ Vader spat the word, “are planning to use this Felucian hospital for  _ their  _ injured men? Now?”

“Now,” Piett confirmed, unsure why Vader was so concerned about this; it was just a hospital, after all. “Only about a dozen, though, and our spies say it’s only happening once--just a test--”

“I do not care,” Vader said acidly, effectively cutting Piett off, “if it is just a  _ test,  _ or if it is only  _ once,  _ or how many troops are there. That is irrelevant. I only need to know one thing.” He marched closer, forcing Piett towards a wall, but there was nothing the terrified admiral could have done to get out of it; one didn’t exactly cut off a conversation with Darth Vader, after all.  _ “Which men are being transported to Felucia?” _

“Unclear,” Piett said, his heart racing beyond speeds he thought were humanly possible. “They were injured very recently, though; about a week ago.”

The effect was instant. Vader’s intensity faded back to its usual level, and he stepped back, looking thoroughly disappointed. 

“Very well,” he said. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“Actually, yes.” Piett bent down to pick up the reports; Vader could never have been bothered to do such a mundane thing himself. “This also has to do with Felucia, but it...well. It’s...ah...it might be a little--”

“ _ Out with it!” _

“Y-yes, my lord. Ah.” He swallowed. “According to some of our best spies, Doctor Aphra is alive and on Felucia, researching rancor fossils. Apparently, she survived her...punishment and worked temporarily with Skywalker before taking off on her own.”

Several seconds passed. Piett glanced nervously at Vader, whose hands slowly clenched into fists, and then...loosened. It was as if he had realized something. 

Something more important than killing Aphra? 

“Doctor Aphra, worthless though she may be, has regained her usefulness _ ,”  _ he said at last. “Prepare the  _ Executor  _ for a journey to Felucia.”


	4. Something In The Jungle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In summary, things start to get worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful KaelinaLovesLomaris for reading this over!

The hospital looked nothing like a hospital. 

It _was_ the hospital, because they’d just emerged from the field, and it was the only building anywhere in sight; and besides, the Force was _telling_ him it was right. But there were no transports of any kind outside. There were no logos on the outside of the building, nothing to distinguish it from anything else; and most of the rooms were dark. 

“It used to be a laboratory. I’m sure they haven’t totally renovated it yet.” 

Wedge’s voice came from behind him; Luke turned around to look at his friend. Somehow--maybe just in the last few weeks--Wedge had learned to tell when Luke was feeling anxious or uncertain about something. 

Luke smiled as a nonverbal way of saying “thank you.”

“All right,” he said, addressing the entire group now. “We’ve arrived. Due to my...well, fame, I don’t think I should be the one to introduce us. Does any of the Rogues want to volunteer?”

“I’ll do it,” Tycho said, stepping up. “Because I used to be with...the Empire, and now I’m with the Rebels, they might see me as some kind of third party negotiator.”

There were murmurs of agreement from the other Rogues. 

“Good idea,” Luke said. “Lead the way, Tycho.”

As the group moved forward, Luke dropped back toward the rear. Just in case anyone was hostile to the Rebellion, and it got out that the destroyer of the Death Star was there…

“Skywalker,” said a tired voice to his right, and for a second Luke was back in the freezing chamber and Vader’s voice was saying his name...because even then he’d wanted to torment him with the revelation, hadn’t he. No sense in revealing it right away--

“Is something wrong?”

Luke blinked and looked down. The person addressing him was one of the injured troops they’d brought along. Luke couldn’t remember his name, but he’d seen him around the base a few times. 

“Don’t talk,” he said. “We’ll get you into a nice room soon enough.”

“No, it’s…” The Rebel gave several coughs and lay back. “It’s all right. You’re...you’re a Jedi, right?”

_But you are not a Jedi yet._

“I...not exactly,” Luke said, the fingers of his artificial hand curling slowly into a fist. “But, yeah, I have the Force.”

“This…” A smile crossed the man’s face, and Luke couldn’t help but wonder if he was a little delirious. “This is why...we admire you, Commander. So humble...modest, even when you deserve to...to brag a little.” 

But he didn’t. He had _lost,_ he’d failed spectacularly at everything, and the Rebellion was no closer to winning. 

“But--but you’re a Jedi,” the Rebel went on, “and you can tell, can’t you…”

Luke frowned. “Tell what?”

The Rebel gripped his sleeve, and Luke was forced to slow down so that he could hear what was being said. “That something is _wrong._ ”

Luke’s mind flashed back to the tracks he’d seen, the tracks so obviously out of time...no. No, it was ridiculous. Anyone could have made those tracks. It was probably the people who’d been here before, trying to pull a mean trick on the hospital personnel. 

“No,” he said, “that’s just your injuries talking. Don’t worry. If there was something wrong, I’d know it.”

“Here we are!” Tycho announced, and the eerie conversation ended. “Just wait a minute, I’ll get us inside.”

As Tycho approached the large door, Luke found himself holding his breath--what for, he didn’t know, but something was making him nervous. He only watched as Tycho knocked on the door...knocked again. There was no answer either time. 

Slowly, Luke’s hand slid toward his belt, where his lightsaber was...then, as his hand grasped air, he remembered that he didn’t have it anymore. It had fallen into the bowels of Cloud City; most likely, it was vaporized by now. If it was possible for lightsabers to do that. 

Tycho knocked again--

And the door opened. 

A female Gossam was standing there, dressed in a white uniform and smiling pleasantly. Luke relaxed. 

“Ah! I wondered when you were coming,” she said. “My apologies for the delay! We were just finishing up with the rooms. They’re all prepared now; can we help you bring them inside?”

“That’s all right,” Tycho said. “We’ll handle it.”

“Something’s wrong,” a voice said, and Luke looked down; it was the same Rebel from before, looking more delirious than ever. “Something’s wrong...something’s wrong…”

Just his injuries, Luke told himself, it’s just his injuries doing that to him. He needs to get into a room as soon as possible…

Something rustled behind him. 

Luke spun around. The foliage was...it was _moving,_ ever so slightly, back and forth. He moved a hand to his blaster and simply stood there, watching. 

Nothing happened. 

So, with an uneasy sigh, he turned back and followed the others into the hospital.

  
  


“We need to do this fast,” Wedge said in a low voice as soon as the nurse had gone to fetch some of her coworkers. “This might be an Empire-free planet, but we can’t risk drawing any attention.”

“I agree.” Luke also knew he needed to find out if Han was here, and this would be a better time than any. “You know what, I’ll be back in a minute. I...I heard something earlier, and I want to go check it out.”

Wedge narrowed his eyes. 

“Yeah, sure,” he said, then pulled Luke away from the others. “Listen, if you’re having more flashbacks, just tell me. You can leave before the rest of us, you don’t have to--”

“No,” Luke cut him off sharply. “Stop--just--dammit, Wedge, I just wish for once you’d all stop pitying me for _two seconds_ and trust that I know what I’m doing!”

Without meaning to, he slammed his hand sideways. It cracked a dent in the wall.

Luke stared at his hand in horror. If he’d aimed at Wedge--

Horrified, he took a step backward. Shadows gathered around him, seeming to whisper at the back of his mind. _Just like your father...just like your father…_

“Wedge, I’m--I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t want to snap at you, I--”

“Luke, it’s okay.” Wedge put a gentle hand on Luke’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault, it--” He sighed. “It’s ours. You’re right. Whether we’re meaning to or not, we’ve been treating you like something delicate.”

“I mean, you have reason to. The first week, I wasn’t thinking straight, I was barely sleeping--”

“Don’t contradict yourself,” Wedge said, shaking his head. “Yeah, we had reason to be careful _then,_ but the last thing you want to do right now is think about what happened, and...and by being this careful with you, that’s what we’ve been making you do. You need to get back into the swing of things, and you’re right, and I’ll stop babysitting you.”

Luke grinned despite himself. “You know, I think this is the first time I’ve actually gotten you to admit you were wrong.”

“Okay, I take everything back,” Wedge said, giving Luke a shove. More seriously, he added, “Go scan the perimeter, Luke. I trust you.”

Luke smiled, and it felt like one of the first _genuine_ smiles in a long time. “Thanks, Wedge.”

  
  


Felucia was a jungle planet, and there was _so much_ of it. That meant there was only one thing Luke could do to find out if Han was here. Upon leaving the hospital, he headed immediately into the trees, walked until he couldn’t see the hospital any longer, climbed the tallest tree he could see, sat down on one of the highest branches, and closed his eyes. 

_You will know when you are calm, at peace._

That was what Yoda had told him on Dagobah; that was how he was supposed to know if he was using the good side of the Force. So far, he hadn’t achieved this yet; he assumed that was why he had lost on Bespin. And he most certainly had not been at peace when he had exploded at Wedge just minutes ago. 

He couldn’t be angry. He had to be calm. 

_Han,_ he thought, picturing his friend’s face; picturing Han laughing, whooping with joy as he proved someone wrong, rolling his eyes. _Where is Han?_

Miraculously, that seemed to do the trick; thinking of Han, of the best of him, everything that Luke loved about him, distracted him from everything else on his mind. Before his life had been divided into A and B--life before leaving Tatooine, life after leaving Tatooine. Now it was A and B--before he had known, and after. Han was in the before; Han was when everything had been beautiful and fun and exciting. Now Han was gone, and everything was terrible; even Leia wasn’t the same as she had once been. 

So thinking of Han, at any time, brought him peace; it reminded him of the way things _used to be,_ before it all went wrong. 

_You two are really a bad influence on me, you know that?_

Luke smiled...and his sense of being stretched across the planet’s surface, roaming over plants and creatures and fields and the hospital and dwellings far away. There was no Han yet, so he kept stretching, searching and feeling and being more focused than he had been in his entire life--

_Han, where are you?_

Please be here, he thought, a bit of desperation beginning to creep in. Please, please be here…

  
  


Something was moving in the undergrowth.

Something, unseen by human eyes, something born to creep in the dark, something with an insatiable hunger, was moving. 

Something bred for blood. 

It had not been seen for days--almost weeks, and so far it was enjoying itself. Free to live as it chose, free to hunt whomever it pleased, free from tests; it was living a better life than it had lived thus far.

But it wanted more. 

And something was here, a creature that usually did not come this far into the jungle wastelands of Felucia, trespassing on its territory...and the something was very hungry. 

Unseen by its prey, it crept closer. 

  
  


_Han...please, where are you…_

The beautiful peace, so short-lived, was beginning to leave him, replaced by desperation. Images of Vader and Cloud City were creeping in now--struggling, he fought to replace them, fought to remember Han--

_Stop it, please--stop! STOP IT!_

Han’s screaming filled Luke’s mind. His eyes snapped open. 

But he wasn’t in the jungle. 

He was, once again, in a long white corridor that seemed to stretch miles and miles ahead of him. There were voices in the shadows--Leia, Lando, Obi-Wan--but all he could hear was Han, calling out ahead of him. 

“Luke!”

“Han!” he shouted. “I’m coming!”

Then a door, rising up--this is where he was meant to be--throwing it open--

“Son.”

Vader. Vader, towering over him, hurling the tormenting words back in his face--terror racing through his veins as he tried to run--tripping, being thrown back into the perfect, white corridor--

His lightsaber, on the floor...just out of reach--he grabbed for it--

And it was pulled away, into Vader’s hand. 

The two colors appeared slowly, in opposite directions--red in the right, blue in the left. Two lightsabers, held toward him as Vader advanced--

The white corridor--

White, like a hospital--

His enemy coming closer, encroaching slowly on him--

  
  


This time for real, Luke’s eyes snapped open. 

It hadn’t been a nightmare, he realized instantly, it hadn’t been a nightmare. Just like he’d suspected. It had been a vision--a _warning._

This was the vision. 

The _hospital_ was the vision. 

And just like in the vision, he had come to find Han. He hadn’t found Han. Instead....

No. No; it could _not_ be true. He wouldn’t _let it_ be true.

A sense of immediate danger overwhelmed him. He had to get out of here. Not thinking, only knowing he had to move, Luke threw himself forward, grabbing onto branches almost as an afterthought to swing himself down, landing, running faster than he had ever run in his life. He had to get back to the hospital...had to warn the other Rogues…

Something snagged on his leg; he went crashing to the forest floor. Panic drove him on; if the vision was right, and he hadn’t found Han, he had only minutes before the Empire arrived. He dragged himself up--

If the vision was true. 

That stopped him short. Once again, he was acting impulsively; just like at Cloud City, it could be a trick. A trap. 

But just in case, he had to make sure. It was dangerous to stay here anyway. 

Breaking into a run again, Luke leaped over the last row of foliage and sprinted toward the hospital. 

  
  


The prey had escaped. 

Somehow, it had known that danger was near, and had fled. This was a smart one. But it would make good meat, if it were caught. 

And if it was here, perhaps others would be as well. 

Prey had fled--and when prey fled, it left tracks that were easily followed.

The predator slunk forward, hunting for the sign of the tracks; yes, there. There they were. There was a kind of prints that looked similar, but not identical, to the ones that had mistreated it before. 

That wasn’t the only familiar thing. The air felt familiar. 

It had been here before. 

And before, there had been food. 

Eager now, the something in the jungle moved. 

The hunt was on. 

  
  


Luke had arrived, but he didn’t slow down. He threw the hospital doors open, sprinting into the main area once more. None of the Rogues or troops were anywhere in sight; there was only a Mirialan woman at the Help Desk, who stood up. 

“May I help you?” she asked delicately. 

“I’m part of the group that came in before,” he said breathlessly. “Can you--can you tell me where they went?”

“The…” The woman frowned. “The group?”

“The group of--of soldiers,” Luke said in frustration, not wanting to give away that they were part of the Rebel Alliance, just in case this woman had something against them. “Just ordinary soldiers, from the Outer Rim. Not on a suspicious mission, just...just testing a...a theory.” He winced. This was going badly. “You know, bringing about a dozen people in on stretchers--”

“Oh, yes!” The woman beamed, as if she’d just remembered. “Now I know what you mean. Yes, the patients were all transferred to the sixth floor.”

“Thanks!” Luke called over his shoulder, already running past the desk toward the turbolifts. Hardly stopping to think, he got into the first one that opened. 

The only person inside the turbolift was a girl, whose age Luke estimated to be around nine or ten. She had long, dark hair that was braided back and large blue eyes, which ran sharply over Luke as the lift closed. 

“Where are you going?” she asked. There was something in her frank manner that was very familiar, but Luke couldn’t put a finger on it. “My grandmother’s on the sixth floor.”

“Oh, uh, what a coincidence.” Luke forced a smile; this might be a dire situation, but as a child on Tatooine he had been largely ignored by anyone more than five years older than him, and he had decided ever since then not to treat other kids the same way. “I’m going there, too.”

He punched in the number, and the turbolift began to ascend. 

_Come on, come on,_ he thought desperately, willing the turbolift to go faster. He didn’t actually use the Force, though; he didn’t think he could affect objects that large, and even if he could, that would do quite a bit of damage to the facility. 

“Why are you anxious?”

Luke suppressed a laugh. Children were so inquisitive; he wondered if he had annoyed adults with an endless stream of questions as a child, and decided he probably had. 

He looked down at the girl. “You can tell that, huh?”

She shrugged. “I dunno, you’re just moving your fingers a lot and biting your lip, which is exactly what my mama does when she’s worried.”

Luke realized he was, in fact, drumming his fingers and stopped. 

“Who said I was doing that?” he teased her. “See? My hands are still.” 

She laughed, a clear, pure sound that drove the anxiety straight out of Luke’s mind. He hadn’t been around kids a lot, he realized, since leaving Tatooine; and if he had, they’d been children to pluck out of the middle of danger, toss them to their parents, and go on to save the next ones. It was almost therapeutic; children were so innocent, so unaware of the terrible things that were going to happen to them…

“What’s your name?” he asked her, on a sudden impulse. 

"Ruya Naberrie,” she said with a smile. “And you?”

She clearly had been raised with manners. Luke returned the smile, holding out his hand to shake hers. “Luke Skywalker.”

“Skywalker?” Her brow furrowed. “I know that name from somewhere.”

“Do you?” said Luke, internally panicking. He’d never heard the name Naberrie before, and that might be because it belonged to someone in the Empire. She was here to visit family, and if they found out…

Nonsense. She was a kid. 

The lift stopped. They’d arrived. 

“Well, see you around, kid,” Luke said with a wave, stepping out. As soon as Ruya was out of sight, he walked quickly down the corridor--thankfully this one wasn’t completely white, maybe that was a sign--searching the doors and listening. The Rogues liked to talk, especially Wedge and Hobbie; he would know where they were if he heard them.

“...where did they go? Run the tests again, see if you come up with anything.”

That voice, he knew that voice, he’d heard it somewhere. Driven by curiosity, Luke turned toward it; it was coming from behind a small room to his left. Not a patient’s room, and judging from what he’d heard, it was some sort of testing lab. For...for diseases, maybe? 

Only one way to find out. He opened the door. 

“--then we have to find out,” a woman was saying. She had her back to him, and was talking to another Mirialan, this one a man. “If they didn’t clean up the evidence, but took it with them--”

The man pointed. “Madam! Intruder!”

The woman spun around. “Okay, for once in your freaking lives, would you guys please stop--” She gasped. “What the hell, Skywalker?”

Luke froze, as stunned as she was. The woman was Doctor Aphra. 

Things had just gotten a whole lot weirder. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am fully aware that in Star Wars a hospital is a medcenter but for personal reasons in this story it will only be called a hospital thanks for coming to my ted talk


	5. Six Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things just continue to escalate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who don't know, Aphra is an archaeologist from the 2015 Star Wars comics who temporarily worked for Darth Vader, he tried to kill her, she worked with Luke once, and she's been on her own since then. By the way, for those of you who know the comics, I do not consider the Citadel arc canon here because it's just too freaking weird. 
> 
> Thanks again to KaelinaLovesLomaris for reviewing!

“I gotta confess, I don’t think I would’ve come here if I’d known you were gonna be here.” After almost throwing her companion out of the room, Aphra had started closing down the reports she’d been looking at. She spared a glance up at Luke. “I mean, I like you a lot, but wherever you are you seem to be about two seconds from getting killed. No offense.”

“None...none taken,” Luke said, still recovering from the initial shock. “I honestly don’t know how I’m still alive at this point.”

Aphra flashed him a quick grin. “Hard same, kid.”

“Okay, so...Aphra, if you could humor me, just for a second--”

“Oh, right. You wanna know why I’m here, don’t you?” Aphra reached into a bag, rummaging around for a few seconds, before pulling out a jogan fruit and tossing it to Luke. “Want some food?”

“Uh...sure.” Luke bit into the fruit; he’d never eaten one before, but it didn’t taste terrible. “So, the last thing I heard--”

“Last thing  _ you  _ heard of me, I was thrown out through an airlock into space because I failed Darth Vader,” Aphra said before reaching back into the bag. “Right. You want a drink? I’ve got--”

“No, not now,” Luke cut her off. “Can you...can you finish, please?” A chill had gone through him at the mere mention of Vader, and he was trying to pretend it hadn’t. “You...he...he  _ shoved you out into space?” _

“Yep. Krrsantan the Wookiee saved me; he and my droids, Beetee and Triple-Zero…” Aphra grinned. “You remember Triple-Zero, right?”

“Sure do,” Luke said, glaring at her. Triple-Zero was a droid that looked like Threepio but was nothing like him; he specialized in torture and had knocked Luke unconscious on Vrogas Vas. 

“Oh, don’t take it personally, Skywalker,” Aphra said, looking legitimately surprised. “It was my job, I mean, it was either capture you or get my ass handed to me.”

The uncomfortable reminder of Vader’s place in this inane story did not make Luke any happier to be talking to Aphra. “Oh, I get it. Believe me.”

“So I got taken to Krrsantan’s ship, tried to distance myself from my former boss...then I went all over, trying to stay out of Vader’s reach...that’s not easy,” she added, as if Luke didn’t remotely relate to  _ that.  _ “Got captured, Krrsantan left the crew...got arrested...formulated an escape plan...had a few affairs--”

“Yeah, I’m not really interested in your biography at the moment,” Luke said wryly. “Why are you  _ here?” _

“Impatient little bugger, aren’t you? No time for trivialities, huh?” Aphra frowned. “That reminds me of someone. Weird.”

Luke’s entire body went cold. She could  _ not  _ know. She’d betrayed them, multiple times, and she had the morality of a pirate--if she knew, and  _ told someone-- _ if it was true, he thought to himself,  _ if  _ it was true. He still couldn’t know...couldn’t be sure…

“Anyway,” Aphra went on, completely oblivious to the hurricane that was constantly spinning and tearing up Luke's insides, "a few months ago I heard from an old Imperial contact-- _ old,  _ and I hadn't talked to him in at least a year, so don't worry your cute Rebel ass--that something...weird was going on at a facility here." 

"This building," Luke said. "What the hospital used to be."

"Yeah, exactly. LARS is what they called themselves; what it stood for, I have no idea." 

"Lars," Luke murmured to himself. It was nothing more than a coincidence, but hearing the name still felt distinctly like  _ home.  _

"Apparently the Empire had thought they were only researching the genetics of different creatures across the galaxy; at some point they believed LARS was creating some kind of army that they could put to their use."

"Ridiculous," Luke said with a snort. 

Aphra laughed. "Yeah, that's what I said too. And it was. Turns out you and your antics over Yavin got them pretty desperate, they wanted something terrifying to use. Didn't get it, because obviously LARS wasn't making an army." Aphra drew out a bottle full of some sort of dark liquid and popped it open. "But the thing is...I don't think they were just doing research, either."

  
  


Darth Vader was furious. 

No, more than furious; he was whatever emotion or feeling was sending small, spidery cracks along the transparisteel in the south corridor. He was  _ supposed  _ to be in the Aquilae sector, hunting down recent reports of the Rebel base there, and he had a very good reason to be concerned about his progress in  _ that  _ regard. 

Two days after Bespin, he had traveled to Imperial Center to inform the Emperor in person of what had happened. He had not wanted to. He had never wanted Palpatine to know...but he was duty bound to tell his master. 

_ "My master, I have failed you."  _

_ "In what respect, Lord Vader?" Palpatine was softly concerned, like a parent gently admonishing his child. "Do tell me."  _

_ "In everything." Vader could hardly bear to think the words, let alone speak them. All he could see was Luke's horrified face, hear the screaming in his mind.  _

_ He made sure that all of this was tightly locked behind his shields, that his mind was an impenetrable wall, before speaking.  _

_ "Skywalker escaped." _

_ "Did he?" Palpatine leaned forward. "How did he manage this?" _

_ This was the most difficult part. Vader had to, somehow, excuse what had happened while simultaneously convincing Palpatine that Luke was not too dangerous to be kept alive.  _

_ "He has grown stronger than I thought. I underestimated him."  _

_ "And he did not accept your offer?" _

_ "Yes...and no." This Vader believed to be true, so it was not a lie. "He refused it, but I sensed temptation within him. He recognizes his potential for the Dark Side."  _

_ "Are you sure of this, Lord Vader?" _

_ "I am sure."  _

_ "I sense that you wish to find him." _

_ Vader had allowed Palpatine to sense it. It was necessary for his plan.  _

_ "Yes, my Master." _

_ "Then I will allow you one month to search for the boy...one month only. If, at the end of that time, you have not found him, you must give up the search and return to my side." Palpatine smiled. "I have missed you, my friend, and this is to be a short visit." _

Vader also wished it had been longer. When he was speaking to Palpatine, he felt what he had felt at the height of his power: control, and rage, and a deep understanding of the Force. 

But he also wanted to find his son. 

Because when that happened, he would not need to be near Palpatine any longer. He would have Luke, who, when he had turned, would have that same understanding of the Dark. That had been his objective from the beginning; once he had his son by his side, he would have no need of Palpatine. 

But now Vader was growing desperate. He had come close in the past weeks, but he hadn't found Luke...and he had six days remaining to do it. 

Six days. 

And he was spending  _ one of them  _ hunting down a woman who was, quite possibly, the most annoying person who had ever existed. 

She had better have some information on the whereabouts of his son, he thought furiously as he watched the blue of hyperspace float by. 

And once she gave it to him, she was going to die. 

  
  


Luke frowned. "What...what do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said." Aphra took a long drink, coughed, and set the bottle down. "See, LARS wasn't just  _ researching  _ genetics. They were  _ doing _ something with it, and keeping that information from both the Empire  _ and  _ the Rebellion." 

"What information, exactly?" Luke was beginning to feel a little creeped out. 

"I don't know," Aphra said, rubbing a hand over her forehead in frustration. "That's as far as I know. We--myself and my droids, helped by the marketing assistant who I sent out of the room--know that there was a series of...well, accidents here a few months ago that got the Empire to shut the place down. We know the Empire absolutely refused to look into them."

"Yeah," Luke said bitterly, "of course they wouldn't. As long as it doesn't serve the Empire, who cares how many people die?" He shook his head. 

Aphra was staring at him. "You do realize that up until a year ago, I was... _ with  _ the Empire, right?" 

"Yeah." Luke took another bite of the fruit, which was turning out to be better and better by the minute. "But you're not anymore. Figured we're on the same side here." 

"Uh...no!" Aphra wore an expression halfway between incredulity and disgust. "No, we are not. You think I want your little Rebellion to win? We just have the same common enemy...and now, apparently, a bunch of crazy scientists gone rogue."

"You think that's what they are?" Luke asked her. "Crazy?"

"What else would they be? Three Stormtroopers  _ died,  _ and they covered it up, refused to shut down the facility, and when their hand was forced they took off into the jungle."

Gathering up her drink in one hand and a batch of reports in the other, Aphra turned and sauntered toward the door. 

"Wait a--what--hold on!" Luke grabbed her arm. "You can't drop that on me and walk away! It was  _ Stormtroopers  _ that died? And--and the scientists are still  _ here?" _

With a sigh, Aphra turned back to face him. "Yeah. That's right. Now are you gonna help me figure out where the scientists are or not?" 

That brought Luke up short. Minutes ago, he'd been ready to get the hell off this planet before his vision came true; now he was hearing that there was some danger here. So what did that mean for everyone here? For the Rogues, the sick troopers...for the girl? If the danger had killed  _ three Stormtroopers,  _ they needed to evacuate  _ everyone  _ before…

"Okay," he said, stopping that particular train of thought. "Okay. Just tell me  _ one thing,  _ Aphra." 

"God, Skywalker!" She took another drink. It seemed like the more stressed she was, the longer a drink she took, yet Luke had never seen her close to drunk. "Okay. Okay, fine, one thing, but keep in mind I'm an archaeologist and I'm here pursuing a lead about live creatures!" 

Luke thought that that was an extremely weak argument in her favor, but he didn't comment on it. "How dangerous are these scientists?" 

"Oh, you're considering taking off, aren't you?" Aphra stared at him. "You, Luke Skywalker, who would  _ never  _ run from danger--"

"That is  _ not  _ it," Luke snapped. "There are a bunch of sick troops here, and if there's a danger to the planet, we need to evacuate everyone fast." 

"You can evacuate people if you want to," Aphra said. "I don't think the scientists are  _ that  _ dangerous. Listen, I have to take care of this head on, or my Imperial contact is gonna rat me out." 

With that, she opened the door and stormed off. 

Suddenly Luke's comlink crackled with the sound of Wedge's voice. "Hey, Luke, where are you? We've got everyone into their rooms and we need to leave now!" 

  
  


Vader had waited long enough. How long was it  _ supposed  _ to take to get to Felucia? Being there would be bad enough, because he could remember one time he had been there in his life. 

He did not want to remember it. 

Just managing to hold back the undercurrent of rage, he returned to the bridge. Immediately, he felt every person's fear increase, felt muted terror and apprehension. It made him feel slightly better. 

"Piett," he said as he approached the admiral, respecting the fact that the man had been able to hold back a flinch of surprise. 

"I was just about to inform you, my lord," Piett said in his clipped accent, turning around to address Vader. "We will be coming out of hyperspace in three minutes." 

"Very good." There was a... _ feeling  _ on the edge of Vader's consciousness, something familiar yet vague enough that he could not place its origin. It frustrated him, and fed his gradually building anger. 

The feeling grew with each moment, every second they approached the planet. 

It had to do with Felucia. 

A Stormtrooper had complained, once, about something happening there. Vader had killed him for the obvious sin of coming onto the bridge; he'd hardly thought about it. 

Now he wondered if he should have spared him. 

Slowly, Vader walked away to look out the viewport. There was something going on here, and Felucia was at its center. 

And this feeling there...he had felt it before. It frustrated him to no end. 

Whatever it was, he would know. Very, very soon. 

  
  


"Wedge!" Luke activated his comlink and spoke into it. "Wedge, you can't leave!" 

"Can't leave?" Wedge demanded. "We can't be detected, Luke, you're the one who told us--"

"I know, I know, and I'm sorry, but…" Luke sighed. "You know what, you guys leave without me. There's a situation here that I'm going to take care of. Tell Leia--"

"Tell her yourself!" Wedge sounded genuinely panicked, and Luke felt awful about it. "Listen, the last time this happened you disappeared for over a month and came back without a hand!"

"I know…I know. But I'll return, Wedge, I  _ promise.  _ This has nothing to do with the Empire, and if you leave I'll draw less attention. As your Commander, I am  _ ordering  _ you to leave!" 

There was a long, long silence, and then: "Okay. Okay, Luke...I trust you."

"Thanks." Luke heaved a sigh. "Thanks, Wedge. That means a lot."

"But don't you dare die! I mean it, Luke, you are not gonna die, and that's a threat."

"I'm trembling." Luke smiled. "Can you tell Leia what I'm doing? Also...also, this is gonna sound weird. Can you tell her that the thing she asked me to do didn't yield any results?"

"Uh...all right. You know she'll yell at you when you get back."

"Absolutely. I'm expecting it." 

Wedge laughed then. "Well, all right. Take care, Luke...and tell me when everything's done!"

"I will, Wedge. Tell me when you get back to the base." 

"Yes, Commander, sir." 

Luke forced a laugh to hide the undercurrent of extreme uneasiness he was feeling. Then there was a click, and Wedge hung up. 

Luke sighed, put away the comlink, and walked out into the corridor. 

A moment later, he felt it. 

It was like a storm had descended over the entire galaxy, suddenly and without warning. A moment before, Luke had felt vaguely unsettled, a feeling at the edge of his mind that he'd noticed, but dismissed as unimportant. Now the feeling, and the hurricane inside him, exploded in full force into a sense of abject terror. 

Luke shrank back against the wall, hardly feeling himself move, only knowing that he should have listened to his vision and fled Felucia. 

Because his worst fear had just been realized. 

Darth Vader was on the planet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter felt a little...off to me? I don't know. It could just be me. Anyway, the next one should be up in a few days.


	6. Bad Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to KaelinaLovesLomaris for reading over!

Just outside the east wing Aphra found the tech who’d been helping her, one Saigon Jamet, resting in a chair and reading a holobook. 

“Hey. Hey!” She snapped her fingers, and he jumped up. “What do you think this is, a public library? Come on, let’s get this over with. I want to get back to scamming Imperial brats out of their inheritance.”

Jamet frowned. “So your friend will not be joining us?”

“First of all, he’s not my friend. Just an acquaintance and temporary partner in crime.” Aphra pressed a button on the turbolift, and the two of them stepped inside. “But, no. He’s not joining us. Where did you say the scientists were last seen?”

“The southeast sector of the planet, jungle side…” Jamet scanned his notes. “That was two weeks ago.”

Aphra groaned. “Okay, if that’s the closest we can get, fine. But _two weeks?_ They might not even be there anymore.”

“Well, why would they move?”

Aphra gave him what she hoped was a withering stare. “Because they’re basically fugitives, idiot. They probably move around every four days or so. Therefore, if they were seen in the southeast sector, two weeks ago…” Aphra closed her eyes, working out the math in her head. “I’d suggest they’re about twelve point seven kilometers north of the east sector.”

“Hmm.” Jamet adjusted his notes. “That makes sense.”

“Of course it makes sense. It’s basic math.” The turbolift arrived on the ground floor, and Aphra and Jamet stepped out. “Now. Where are the speeders at this hospital?”

“I’ve got some already reserved in the holding bay.”

“You have to _reserve_ them?” Aphra rolled her eyes. “There’s, like, twenty patients here.”

Jamet seemed to have learned by now not to respond to every sarcastic remark Aphra made. There were too many to keep track of. 

They walked past the front desk, toward the stairwell, and down to the lower levels; that was where the holding bay was. As a well-dressed Twi’lek couple passed them, a man and a woman, Aphra winked at them. 

“Looking good,” she said, while Jamet rolled his eyes. 

“There’s no need for you to flirt with everyone you meet,” he said. 

Aphra snorted. “Was that flirting?”

“That’s what it looked like to me.”

“Well, it wasn’t, genius.” Aphra smiled. “It was me remembering their faces so I can put myself in a position to swindle them later if I suddenly need credits.”

Jamet stared at her. “You have got to be kidding me.”

They had reached the speeders; two, beautifully polished and ready to go. Aphra ran a hand lovingly over the handlebar; although she’d had more experience with spacecraft, speeders had this raw power to them that she’d always admired. 

“All right,” Jamet said. “Let’s go.”

The speeders roared to life, and Aphra led the way out of the holding bay. There were two small ramps for exiting on each end; she took the left, feeling the wind rush past her, blow her hair over her cheeks…

And then they were outside in the field behind the hospital, miles of green that stretched out into jungle. For one beautiful moment, the sun shone down on them and Aphra smiled, basking in it. 

And then that sun was blotted out by a shadow that slowly passed over them, darkening the fields in the distance and broadcasting its arrival to any Felucian willing to look out the viewport. 

Aphra pulled her speeder up short; Jamet stopped behind her. 

“What is it?” he demanded. “What’s wrong?”

For several seconds, Aphra didn’t answer. She was too busy looking up. 

There were no X-Wings, as she’d suspected given Skywalker’s arrival. Instead, there was something fifty times as large: a giant, looming, Super Star Destroyer. 

But not just any Super Star Destroyer. 

It was a ship she’d served on herself. 

The _Executor._

It did nothing at the moment; just sat there like a behemoth in the atmosphere, watching. But then, as Aphra watched, several shuttles dispatched themselves and came hurtling down to the planet below. 

“Son of a--” Aphra’s chest had gone tight, memories of cold space and suffocating and abject terror and feeling all her organs failing her at once and of _dying_ rushed back at her. She looked down, wiped the sudden sweat from her forehead, and looked back up again. “Dammit, _no!_ ”

Still there. Still bearing down on her; the shuttle was closer to the ground now, finding a landing about five kilometers east. 

After that, it was a ten-minute walk to the hospital. 

Ten minutes. Ten minutes was all she had. 

Jamet frowned up at the sky. “That’s...that’s a Destroyer!”

“Yeah, laserbrain.” Even in the midst of watching her worst nightmare come true, Aphra found the mental space to be annoyed. “No _shit._ ”

“What?” Jamet glanced at her, annoyed. “I mean, as long as we get out of the way--”

“No,” Aphra snapped. “No, you don’t get it. He’s here for _me!”_

“He...” Jamet looked back up at the _Executor._ “He, who?” Jamet looked at the shuttle...and gasped, hand flying to his mouth. “Is...is that _Darth Vader?”_

Aphra threw up her hands. “Congratulations, genius! You finally hit the nail on the head.”

“Well--well--” Jamet stuttered before shooting her a glare. “Well, I’m only a lowly tech, here! This is my first week on the job, I’m from Akiva, I don’t usually run into the Empire, let alone _Darth freaking--”_

“Shut up. Just, just shut up and let me do the talking here. I’ve escaped him before, I can do it again.” Aphra took a deep breath. “Okay. New plan.”

Jamet leaned forward anxiously. “New plan?”

“That’s right, buster. New plan.” Aphra adjusted her goggles. “I don’t care where these scientists are, but right now we are going to take off into the opposite direction as fast as we can go, get lost in the jungle, and find a way to fake my death.”

  
  


It was fascinating how quickly things could change. 

One moment, he had been quietly furious, barely able to restrain his rage at having to deal with Aphra on the basis that she _just_ _might_ have some information for him. 

The next second, they had emerged from hyperspace. 

And then everything had changed. 

In an instant, Vader was overwhelmed with emotions: apprehension, then blind terror, resignation…resignation that slowly gave way to hardened determination. The succession of feelings flooded the Force bond between himself and his son; a bond he had hardly dared to touch in the last weeks, due to the fact that every time he had reached out, the result had been immediate terror and the raising of rudimentary shields. But now Vader reached toward the bond with renewed eagerness; now he stretched out with the Force towards Felucia, searching for what the Force was telling him, hoping, desperately hoping…

He found it. Luke was on Felucia. 

A moment later, several Rebel ships blew past the _Executor._ Eleven of them, X-Wing class. For one singular moment, Vader was struck by real fear: for him to have just arrived, and immediately have his son escape him, would be torment. 

But one sense of the Force told him otherwise. Luke was not in any of the X-Wings. 

For some reason or another, he was stranded on Felucia. 

“Lord Vader!” Piett approached him, rather breathlessly. “Lord Vader, Rebel ships--”

“Leave them.” Vader did not so much as turn around; he was too busy drinking in his son’s bright presence in the Force, the strength that shone out like a beacon. So much potential, so much untapped potential...and it was _his,_ his child--

Piett stuttered. “L...leave them?”

“Must I repeat myself?” At last Vader did turn around, very slowly; it was a strategy that had proven effective in subtly creating fear, and it even worked on the Admiral. “Leave them. Skywalker is not with the Rebels. He is on Felucia.”

“On Felucia?” Several different emotions passed through Piett’s eyes in the space of a few seconds; other than that, nothing registered on his face. That was commendable. “Very well. What are your orders?”

“Keep the _Executor_ in orbit over the planet.” Vader turned to stride from the bridge, and Piett followed him. “Prepare my shuttle. Send for a medic and a small squadron to accompany me.” He turned briefly to throw an admonishing finger in Piett’s face. “And whatever happens, I am _not_ to be disturbed for _any_ reason.”

“It will be done, Lord Vader.” With a curt nod, Piett turned and hurried away.

Marching quickly, Vader returned to his meditation chamber to seek out his son’s presence and await the news that his shuttle was ready. The former would help distract him from the latter. 

Finding Luke in the Force was not hard to do. The boy’s emotions were being broadcast all over the area; that was the first thing he would teach him. 

Teach him. The idea was tantalizing. 

_Soon, my son,_ he thought, hardly noticing the instinctive terror that came from his son. _Soon._

  
  
  


_Vader’s here. Vader’s here for me. Vader’s here._

The words kept echoing like an alarm, over and over, as he sat huddled on the hospital floor, desperately throwing up shields in his mind to block the constant pressuring sense of iron determination that he could feel radiating from Darth Vader. Determination to get to Felucia...to claim Luke. To claim Luke as his--

No. _No, no, no, don’t even think about it, don’t--_

**_Soon, my son._ **

If he hadn’t been terrified _before,_ he certainly was now. Several times after Bespin, that voice had overwhelmed him, like a...a _parasite_ inside his head. It was some kind of ironic torment, that he could escape in body but never in mind; that if Vader drew close enough, reached far enough, he would always know where Luke was, always know what he was thinking and feeling...

And now, now it would be like that forever. Vader would find him. Vader would capture him, try to turn him to the Dark...and while Luke struggled--which he must, if he valued anything at all--while he struggled the Sith Lord would constantly prey on his mind, torment him until he gave in. Their familial connection-- _if it was true, if it was true, you know it to be true--_ would not matter. First and foremost, Vader was a Sith; he had killed Obi-Wan, and tortured Han and Leia, and tortured _Luke_ with visions of Han and Leia being tortured, and positively brutalized him in a duel, and cut off his hand...being a Sith came first to him, didn’t it, and he would torment Luke until he gave in…

_It is the only way…_

No. 

No, it hadn’t been the only way then...and it wasn’t now. Vader didn’t have him yet; he had more than one option. 

For as long as he could remember, people had been telling him that he had only one option, that he _had_ to do things a certain way, or make a certain decision...but that had never been true. That had just been everyone trying to manipulate him into doing what they wanted. 

No more. 

The fingers of Luke’s right hand curled into a fist. Sudden determination flowed through him, and he opened his eyes. Vader wasn’t here yet. He was in the hospital, in an empty corridor, and he still had time. He hadn’t explored much of the building yet, but there were twelve floors, and three sections, and hundreds of rooms. Vader might be able to feel him on the planet, but it would take him ages to find Luke’s exact location. 

“It is _not_ the only way, you bastard,” he said through clenched teeth. 

Slowly getting to his feet, Luke walked quickly toward where he knew the turbolifts were. If he could get to the bottom floor, and across to the children’s section of the hospital, he could put some distance between himself and Vader. 

But he’d need to do it carefully. 

_What would Han do?_ he asked himself as he wandered the sixth floor, trying not to focus on his f-- _shut up--_ on Vader’s dark presence drawing slowly nearer. _What would Han do?_

Set the wrong trail, perhaps? 

He grinned. That would throw Vader off course for sure. 

Luke turned, approaching the nurse at the help desk, and cleared his throat. 

She looked up. “May I help you?”

“This...this might seem like an odd request, but I assure you, it’s harmless,” he said. “If anyone comes looking for me, tell them that Luke Skywalker is on the ninth floor of the Emergency Wing.” He smiled. “Thank you.” 

He knew she was staring at him as he turned and walked down the corridor toward the turbolifts. That was the point. 

“Wait,” she called after him. “You’re--you’re a Rebel!”

“That’s right,” he said, flashing her a smile as he got into the turbolift. “I’m a wanted criminal.”

The panicked nurse was too busy pulling the alarm to notice that the turbolift was going _down_ instead of _up._

  
  
  


It was a short walk from the shuttle to the hospital, approximately ten minutes. But still it was too long; much too long, because all the while Vader was tracking Luke’s presence, and he could feel him moving further away. So Luke was trying to escape him, It was disappointing, of course; but Vader supposed it made sense. He had acted, perhaps, more rashly on Bespin than he had intended. He had not meant to terrify his son so much, certainly had not meant to cut off his hand...but in the end it would do wonders for him. The sooner Luke understood that the world was full of pain, the stronger he would become. 

(At least, that was what Vader told himself.)

The squadron of Stormtroopers walked behind him; the medic he had left back at the shuttle for two reasons. First and foremost, he would only slow them down; and second, Vader could tell that Luke was not injured, at least not in a way that would require immediate attention. 

The fortunate thing about being on Felucia was that, since it had been an Imperial territory until just a short time ago, the inhabitants knew him on sight. Therefore, he didn’t have to deal with killing any unfortunate bystanders; the nurses, doctors, visitors, and other personnel parted for him immediately, whispering among themselves. 

Good. It would make this easier. 

Vader stopped just inside, reaching out in the Force for his son; but as he did so, alarms began to blare throughout the building, eerie red light glancing off the polished white walls and floors. 

He knew, instantly, that it was connected to his son. 

Vader looked around, wondering how to go about finding him. There was a map in front of him describing the layout of the hospital and the corridors and turbolifts that enabled people to travel between the different sections; excellent. It seemed that the Force was with him today. 

“You are to split up,” he said, turning round to address the Stormtroopers. “There are a dozen of you; break off in four teams of three. Decide among you who is to take the Children’s Residency, the kitchens, the Quarantine, and the lower level of this Emergency Wing that we are currently approaching. I will take the upper levels.”

As one, the Stormtroopers saluted and marched away. 

  
  
  


Aphra didn’t stop moving until she was deeper in the Felucian jungle than she had ever thought she could go; didn’t stop pushing the speeder, further and further away from danger, until she could only see jungle in every direction.

“Yeah,” she said, dismounting from her speeder. “This’ll do.”

Jamet dismounted beside her. “Can you explain once more, please? I don’t know if I quite follow you...you _worked_ for him?”

“Yeah, I said that. About four times, actually, but you seem to like things being repeated for you.” Aphra raised her goggles, taking stock of the land around her. “I worked for him--actually, he kind of made me work for him, because he needed me at the time--I failed him a few times, somehow escaped with my life, then he decided he didn’t need me any more, threw me out the airlock because I knew too much, I barely survived, I’ve spent the last two and a half years keeping away from him.”

“And swindling people,” Jamet added. 

“That’s only when I run out of credits,” Aphra shot over her shoulder, forging a path forward into the thick mess of grass and roots and trees. “Mother of moons, it’s _hot_ here! And wet, too, at the same time.”

“But--” Jamet was making valiant efforts to get them back onto the subject at hand. “But you really believe that if we create some sort of accident and I run back and report your death, he’ll...he’ll believe it?” He wiped his brow nervously. “I’ve--I’ve never been that great at lying, Doctor--”

“Well, you’re going to get good in two hours,” Aphra said. “If he figures it out and kills me, I am going to _strangle_ you.”

“Well--” Jamet was struggling to make sense of that one. “I--”

“Okay!” Ignoring him completely, Aphra stopped in front of a clump of weeds. “You know what this is, laserbrain?”

“Would you stop--” Jamet sighed. “No. No, I don’t.”

“Then you’re damn lucky I’m here to explain it to you.” Aphra gestured to the weeds, which were green at the roots and tipped with purple; the purple tips were how she knew them from other, more harmless, Felucian weeds. “This is the senna root. Scientifically speaking, it’s classified as _depresso mortem,_ translated literally as ‘squeezing death.’” 

“What…” Jamet stared at the deadly plant. “That means it’s poison. Why the squeezing death?”

“Because the poison attacks your respiratory system first. It essentially turns everything you breathe to acid, meaning you choke to death on your lungs.” Aphra smiled. “So we try not to touch it.”

Jamet held onto the tree. “So...so this is how we’re going to say you died?”

Aphra nodded. “Vader’s been all over the galaxy. He won’t know the scientific term, he’s a military man, or military...whatever the hell he is; but he’ll know the term senna. Hell, even say ‘purple-tipped plant’ and he’ll know. He won’t even come looking for me. If we said I’d gotten shot, or trampled by some wild creature, he wouldn’t think twice. He’d need to prove it. But the thing about the senna root is...” Aphra pursed her lips. “It’s passed through skin contact. If I’d died, and you touched me, the poison would pass to you. Sure, he’s encased in a robot suit from hell, but he’s still not gonna risk it.”

Jamet whistled. “That’s smart.”

“Of course it is. I’m brilliant.” Aphra rolled up her sleeves. “Now, obviously we’re not going to have me touch it. I don’t want to die. But there _are_ telltale signs. So, just in case he _does_ come looking…” Aphra fished around in her bag before digging out a small bottle. “Rub this on my forearms and hands. It’ll turn them a soft purple...and worse, it’ll give off a pretty awful stench for the next five hours.”

“All right.” Jamet took the bottle, unscrewed the lid, and shrieked. “Whoo! This is worse than the backside of a sick bantha!”

“That’s the idea,” said Aphra, wrinkling her nose. “Now, we don’t have much time. Vader’s on his way to the hospital by now.”

  
  
There was more prey. The thing in the jungle could sense it. 

Willing prey had wandered into the jungle. Into its own territory.

Willing meat.

And yet...and yet, there was a decision to be made. There was prey here. But there was also prey further on; and, judging by the scent on the wind and the tracks in the jungle, there was more of the latter. More meat. More food.

Was it worth waiting to eat until it had found the bigger meal?

Yes, the creature decided. Yes, it was.

For now, it would wait. But by the next passing of the light, it would have its meat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, I PROMISE the action is coming! Just gotta set it up first.


	7. Predator And Prey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things begin to be revealed, and Luke and Vader play a very advanced game of hide and seek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I had a lot of fun writing this one.

For the first time in many, many long weeks, Admiral Piett finally found that he was relaxed. He smiled, hands clasped loosely behind his back as he gazed out at the Felucia system. The cause of this happiness was obvious: Lord Vader was not on the _Executor._ There was no one who could deal him any kind of punishment, no one who he had to fear, no one who could provide him any kind of stress...

“Admiral!” 

Piett sighed, turning around slowly. Except one. 

“Captain Venka,” he said wearily, regarding the nerve-wracked captain who was the picture of anxiety: his face was red, his hands moved sporadically up and down his jacket, and every few seconds he readjusted his collar. “What is it _now?_ ”

“Why are we on Felucia?” Venka demanded. 

“Because Lord Vader has a lead on the Rebellion’s location,” Piett responded coolly. 

“And he…” Venka stuttered. “He’s going down there?”

“Obviously.” Venka seemed to like demanding things of him, even when he was in no position to do so; Piett did not think the captain was entitled to a lengthy response. 

And yet, that one-word response seemed to send Venka into a panic. He took several steps back, removed his hat, clutched at his hair, replaced the hat. “No....no, no, _no!_ ”

“No, what?” Piett said sarcastically. “You’re going to demand things of Vader now? I wonder how that’s going to work out for you.”

“No, not that!” Venka snapped. “It’s--I--if he’s there he’ll find out--” He threw up his hands. “I have to go!”

“ _Go?_ ” Now this was getting stranger and stranger, but Piett was not going to be responsible for everything going awry. Vader’s threatening words rang in his mind: _Whatever happens, I am not to be disturbed for any reason._ “Well, you are not going to Felucia. That much is clear!”

“Of...of course not.” Venka laughed nervously. “Why would you think that?”

“Oh, no reason.” Piett sighed. There were no words for the amount of sheer annoyance he was feeling at present. “It’s just that Lord Vader _personally_ warned me that he was not to be interrupted until his return, so if you do…” He lowered his voice so that no one else currently on the bridge could hear. “You are _worse_ than dead.”

Venka nodded curtly. “Of course, Admiral. I won’t go anywhere near Felucia.”

“Good.” Piett stepped back. “See to it that you _don’t._ ”

  
  


There were twelve floors in all. So Vader started on the sixth. 

It was almost humorous, the ease with which things were unfolding. The moment he set foot outside of the turbolift, Vader knew that this was the root of the chaos. Luke had done something here; this was where he had to start. 

So he moved forward, past scurrying techs and physicians’ assistants, past visitors who slammed doors shut at the mere sight of him. He ignored all of them; they would be of no help to him. 

He walked further.

There was a human woman--a nurse--who was standing up, pacing in front of her desk, running a hand through her hair. That was the one. 

Of course, she barely held back a scream as Vader approached. But that was to be expected. He waited several seconds; long enough, he deemed, to allow her fear to pass, before speaking. 

“I am here to conduct a search of one individual,” he said. 

“Are--are you talking about Luke Skywalker?” she asked, her voice trembling.

A thrill leaped up in his chest. He had been correct; of course he had. But it helped to hear it from someone else. 

“Yes,” he said. “What do you know?”

“He--he was here, about ten minutes ago,” she stammered. “He came to see someone, there were other Rebels here--I could tell, they were all wearing orange--”

Now Vader had had enough. He had been out of patience long ago; now he was running out of the ability to pretend that he had any patience left. 

“Get to the POINT,” he snarled. 

The nurse began shaking twice as much, but he didn’t care; it got her talking. “Of--of course, my lord. He ran past my d-desk--he was going somewhere--”

“Going where?” Vader demanded. 

“The...the ninth floor,” she said, seeming to regain a little more control over her emotions. “Said he was a wanted--”

But Vader didn’t stay to hear any more. He had already turned, driven along like a storm barreling a path of destruction. An unfortunate PA got in his way, pushing a cart; he threw the cart and assistant aside with the Force. There was a crash and a yell of pain; no one came running. 

It was of no consequence. He turned toward the turbolifts, reaching toward Luke’s presence and--

And that was odd. Luke was now even farther, instead of closer. 

What was wrong? 

Surely not his sense of the Force. That was never wrong. Then why would Luke not be close? Why would he not be where the nurse had said he was? 

Carefully, Vader thought back on her words. 

_Said he was a wanted…_

What? Criminal? 

But why would he _tell_ her that? Vader did not know much about his son--and such a thought only served to make him more furious--but what he knew for certain was that Luke was very, very skilled at avoiding his enemies. He had learned, since leaving Tatooine, how to trick the Empire. 

Which meant that, most likely, Luke had lied in an attempt at misdirection. 

_Clever, boy,_ he thought, heading back the other way. _Very, very clever. But not clever enough._

He _could_ take the turbolifts. That was an option. But they were moving too slowly for him, and that was what Luke would expect of him. 

Over the years, Vader had learned to remember... _certain aspects_ of the life of Anakin Skywalker. Most of it he had intentionally left behind; it was useless to him. But one thing he remembered was that inside every turbolift system, there was a shaft containing a system of pulleys that brought each lift to and from its destination. 

And turbolifts could be broken into with a lightsaber. 

His son would not expect that. Not in a thousand years. 

  
  
  


The turbolift was moving too slowly. 

Maybe it was just that Luke had to deal with the constant sense of Darth Vader coming ever closer, but he wondered if the turbolift had not been moving faster _earlier._ Something could be wrong with it, he thought, or maybe Vader could feel where he was, and had affected it with the Force…

_Or I’m just so nervous I’m going paranoid._

Luke bit back a laugh. That was the most probable explanation. 

_No fear,_ he told himself, clenching his fists. _Fear is not an option._

At last, the turbolift arrived on the ground floor. Luke stepped out cautiously.

From what he could tell of the Force, Vader was coming steadily closer to the hospital, but he wasn’t there yet, which gave Luke just minutes to move. He walked quickly--but not _too_ quickly--looking as if he was just in a hurry to get somewhere. 

“Hello!” a nurse said cheerfully. 

Forcing a smile, Luke waved and continued on his way. 

The hospital’s layout was extremely confusing, but according to a sign he’d seen several floors up, it should be just across a catwalk and down another level. There were several visitors up ahead, whispering to each other; he had no way of knowing if they were talking about him or not. He supposed he had to pretend as if he hadn’t seen anything and keep going. Slowly, he slid past them and headed toward the door at the other end of the corridor. 

Just as he put his hand on the door handle, he felt it in a prickling sense at the back of his skull: Darth Vader was inside the hospital. 

_Keep moving, keep moving,_ he told himself; this time he was _not_ going to be frozen in fear. And while he could certainly feel that Vader was in the hospital, he couldn’t tell where. Hopefully, the same held true for Vader regarding Luke himself. 

_Just keep moving._

He had set the diversion upstairs; if the Force was with him, Vader would fall for it.

And if not, Artoo and his X-Wing were waiting. 

Quietly, Luke opened the door and slipped inside. 

  
  
  


Felucia looked beautiful from here. Luke had already seen the planet’s beauty, in the lush plants of many colors, the wide, sunlit fields, the towering trees; but suffice it to say he’d been a little busy up to this point, and there hadn’t been time to look around. But here, from the catwalk darkened from the inside, and with wide viewports on either side, he had a perfect view of the best that Felucia had to offer. Its one sun was slowly setting on the left, spreading soft golden light over the plants and fields; and at the same time, on the right side, two moons were rising, casting a silver glare over the trees of the jungle. It was as if day and night were existing simultaneously, a perfect moment that would only exist, Luke knew, for several precious minutes until night came. 

It was a beautiful moment. 

But he knew that he had to keep moving, so he moved reluctantly away from the viewport to the door at the other end of the catwalk. Taking one glance back at the setting sun and rising moons, Luke opened the door. 

On the other side of the catwalk was a sitting room; several children were playing there, and as he entered the room they waved. Luke waved back.

“Hey,” he said, “is this the kids’ part of the hospital?”

A little Twi’lek girl frowned. “I think so. You have to go down a little bit but you’ll get there!”

He grinned. “Thanks.”

As Luke crossed the room, he focused on something that he had lived in fear of ever since Bespin: the awful _bond_ between himself and Vader, that had apparently been dormant for years until it came alive on the _Falcon,_ in that moment he still had nightmares of when Vader reached out to him, and he had responded. 

_Father!_

_It is your destiny._

Luke shuddered to even think of it; the slip had filled him with shame ever since, that he’d resisted everything Vader had told him until then. He still didn’t think he believed it--he _couldn’t,_ it was _impossible_ \--and yet that one singular moment had told him otherwise, and every time he’d sensed the bond being activated he had reared away from it, slammed his shields up, and taken the first mission that came his way because it would mean putting distance between himself and Vader. 

But now he had no other choice; he had to know where his enemy was. He closed his eyes, leaning against the wall, and searched, diving deeper until--

Vader was farther away. 

Luke grinned and opened his eyes. Vader had taken the bait. 

But he still couldn’t be too careful. There was a door at the end of the room; he opened it. There was a turbolift there, as well as a stairwell and a little girl waiting for the turbolift to arrive. 

She turned around. It was Ruya. 

Luke smiled. “Well, long time no see.”

He couldn’t explain it; she was a child, but something about her felt incredibly familiar, and it made him feel safe. 

She smiled back radiantly. “Oh, hi! Are you going down?”

“Yeah,” Luke said. “You, too?”

Ruya nodded and gave a small giggle. “Guess we can be turbolift buddies again.”

Luke laughed. “I guess we can.”

The turbolift dinged open, and Luke and Ruya stepped inside. But even as the doors were closing, Luke reached out to Vader’s presence again, just to check--

The presence reached back. 

_“I know where you are. You cannot escape me.”_

Terrified, Luke pulled back. But it was too late. 

Vader _hadn’t_ taken the bait after all; or if he had, it had just been temporary. And that meant only one thing. 

He was coming toward Luke. 

  
  


“Firmus, is everything all right?”

Piett looked up from the reports he was reading; General Veers stood in front of him. He sighed. Over the years he had grown adept at hiding his feelings from others, but Veers had been around him a long time, and they had become close for two men constantly at risk of being killed; in the past year, even friends. As a result, there wasn't much that Piett could hide from him. 

“Yes,” Piett responded. The real answer was ‘no,’ but saying that would require him to tell Veers everything he suspected Venka of being up to for the last three months, and he didn’t feel like doing that. Besides, as Admiral he must always appear in control. “It is, Max."

“Really?” Veers looked around before leaning closer. “Listen, I know Venka’s wanted your position for years and hated seeing you get it. I don’t like him, either; he’s always been pretentious, thinks much too highly of himself, and the only reason he’s still around is because his spies always bring information back. If he--”

“No.” Piett cut him off. “Don’t finish that sentence. Venka might have his flaws, but so do I, and so do you. So does everyone.”

“Just listen,” Veers went on, “Venka talks about you behind your back. Surely you know this; we’ve all heard him. He says awful things as well--”

“I don’t care what he says. The point, Max, is that he is a Captain, and I am an Admiral; he can say what he likes--and get killed for it eventually--but I have to set a better example because I outrank him.” Piett sighed. “You mean well, and I’m grateful for that, I really am. But with all the propaganda these days, I think we should all do our best to show any dissenters that we in the Empire are calm, controlled, logical, and always in command of our actions. Whatever Venka does, I will never say or do anything against him."

Veers actually gave him a genuine smile. “All right, Firmus. Have it your way.”

Just as Veers was turning to go, Piett heard footsteps. An officer was approaching them, and he looked distressed. 

“Admiral, sir!” The lieutenant came to a stop. “We have a situation that requires your attention immediately.”

“Yes?” Piett frowned. “What is it?”

“An unsanctioned shuttle has just departed the _Executor,_ sir. I know Lord Vader specifically asked that there be no transportation on or off the ship until his return, and we tried to stop it--”

Piett had a sinking suspicion as to who had taken that shuttle, and he had to force himself to remain calm. “Who’s on the shuttle, Lieutenant?”

“Well…” The lieutenant frowned. “No one saw for certain, but several eyewitnesses said that it was a pilot and one--one of the captains, and it’s headed for Felucia.”

“What a surprise,” Veers deadpanned. 

Piett ignored him. “Very well, Lieutenant. I’ll be there shortly.”

The lieutenant saluted him and hurried away. 

The second he was gone, Piett spun on Veers, clenching his fists. “That smug bastard! I’m going to kill him!”

Veers raised an eyebrow. “What happened to not doing or saying anything against him?”

Piett groaned. “I’d hoped his fear of Lord Vader was greater than...than whatever’s bothering him about Felucia. I suppose I was wrong.” Shaking his head, he marched quickly off the bridge, Veers hot on his heels. 

Whatever Venka was up to, it was not going to end well. 

  
  


The turbolift descended slowly. 

“Where are you going?” Luke asked Ruya, hoping she wasn’t going to follow him. The last thing he wanted was to put a kid at the mercy of Darth Vader, which would most certainly happen if Vader found them. 

“Not really anywhere,” Ruya said with a shrug. “My grandmother’s sleeping right now and I need to find something to do until she wakes up.” She beamed up at him. “So I’ll just follow wherever you go!”

_Oh. Great._

“Yeah, I…” Luke scratched the back of his head. “I really don’t think that’s a great idea.”

“Why?” Ruya scowled, a strange expression on her angelic face. “You don’t like me, do you?”

“What--of course I like you!” Luke tried switching his tone immediately; maybe if he stopped sounding so exhausted she’d believe him. “Why wouldn’t I?’

“Because I talk too much and I’m annoying, that’s what everyone says.”

 _Luke, you’re a good kid, but you’d get a lot more done if your head wasn’t constantly in the clouds and you just shut up and did what I asked you to do,_ Uncle Owen had snapped at him once when he was twelve during an argument they’d had. Stars, this kid really was a lot like him. 

“Well, I’m not everybody,” he said gently. “It’s just that...well…” 

He hesitated. What could he possibly say next? _I’m secretly a wanted criminal and that puts me in danger. Darth Vader is a monster and he’s in the hospital hunting me down right now, and anyone with me might get killed. Darth Vader is hunting me right now, he’ll kill anyone who’s with me and he also just possibly insanely might be my long-lost father._

“I’m in a lot of danger right now,” was what he settled on, going for a vague answer. “People...are after me, and if they find me, you might get killed.”

“Killed?” Ruya gasped. “It’s like you’re in a fairy story!”

“That’s…” Luke pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe he should’ve told her the whole truth anyway. “I really don’t think that should be your biggest takeaway from what I just told you.”

“But that’s awesome! I mean, not the killed part, I guess that wouldn’t be very fun. But now you’ve gotta hide from people, right? So you can’t get caught? Sort of like…” She smiled dreamily. “A spy. You’re like a spy. That’s cool.” 

“Uh...yeah. Sure.” 

More than ever, Ruya was reminding Luke of himself at her age, and for the first time he was wondering if that wasn’t such a good thing.

The turbolift had arrived on the ground floor. The doors opened, and Luke and Ruya stepped out. Strangely, it didn’t look like the Children’s Wing; there was almost nobody here, and the lights were dimmed. 

“I think we took a wrong turn,” he said. “Have you been down here?”

Ruya shook her head. 

“All right.” He walked forward. If this was a remote area of the hospital, maybe it would take Vader longer to find him. “Then, I guess....just follow me.”

  
  


The turbolift shaft was not a place that could be gotten into by any ordinary being. For starters, the door that led into it was locked and could only be unlocked with a special key card; and from there it was a long, dark pit containing only the lift itself, the guide rails, and a hoisting beam at the top of the shaft. At any moment the lift could come rushing along; if you were at the bottom it would crush you, and if you were at the top and didn’t move immediately you would be crushed the other way. 

But Darth Vader was not any ordinary being, and for all intents and purposes he knew what he was doing. For starters, he did not begin on the sixth floor; he bothered to take the turbolift all the way to the twelfth floor. There were two people in the turbolift; upon sight of him, they immediately got out.

As the turbolift traveled upward, Vader felt Luke’s presence reaching toward his; the bond flared to life. Could it be…had Luke accepted the truth?

But before Vader could so much as reach back, his son withdrew. Vader sensed triumph. 

So Luke was only searching for him, making sure he was far away; Vader felt the stirrings of brief amusement. So Luke thought he’d outsmarted his father, did he? But the amusement was underscored by disappointment. Luke was still afraid; he was running. Clearly Vader had work to do. 

But first he had to _find_ Luke. He had not come all this way just to lose his son; he wouldn’t _allow it._

The turbolift had arrived on the twelfth floor. As he stepped out, he felt Luke reach toward him again; that had been a mistake. Now that it was the second time, and Vader had become accustomed to what his presence in the Force felt like, he had a vague inkling of where Luke was: the lower levels of the hospital, and not directly down. Most likely, then, he had crossed over to the Children’s Wing of the hospital. 

Before Luke could withdraw, Vader reached back. 

“ _I know where you are,”_ he sent to Luke’s mind for good measure. _“You cannot escape me.”_

Blind terror was his only response before the bond closed, but that was good. Vader did not want his son terrified of him by any means--if he unlocked his true potential and turned himself over to the Dark, he would not be able to be terrified by anything or anyone--but for the present, it served its purpose. Vader knew very little about his son, but he had learned a great deal at Bespin, even for their limited interaction: Luke did not like to be afraid, and he would rush headlong into anything regardless of logic or reason; but his fear of _Vader himself_ had increased after he had learned the truth, and when he’d sensed that his father was coming for him, Luke had resigned himself to capture. If he believed the same thing now--and the terror was an indication that he did--it made him less likely to escape. 

With that in mind, Vader proceeded. 

Now that he knew that Luke was across the hospital, he couldn’t take these turbolifts; they would not get him close to his son in the amount of time he needed. He had to get to the other wing from here. 

It took him no time at all to get from one end of the floor to the other, and yet it felt agonizingly long. He felt that time was of the essence; it was a game now, a race between himself and his son. He wanted to find Luke; Luke wanted to escape him, and whoever moved faster would win. It was a chase, a predator hunting prey, though it would have a very different outcome than the usual; if Vader won he would get everything he had ever worked toward during the past three years. He would have his son with him, he would have a powerful apprentice…

If Luke was willing to turn. 

No. He couldn’t dwell on that, not now. Besides, just because Luke hadn’t been willing on Bespin did not mean he would not be willing now. Vader was loathe to admit it, but he...had handled things poorly then. Of course, Luke had drawn his weapon first; Vader had repeatedly told himself that in the days following, that his son had technically been the first aggressor. But of course he had been in shock; Vader should have told him first; but he had _wanted_ to see what his son was like in battle, had wanted to see how strong he was, and had not been disappointed. And as a result, he had nearly lost him. 

But he _hadn’t._ And now Luke had had time to get used to the truth; and if Vader captured him, if he saw that he had no other choice, he would surely turn. 

Vader had arrived at the other turbolifts, across the hospital and on a direct route to the Children’s Wing. Now it was time to set his plan in action. Anyone else would have had to find a way to smuggle the key card, and he supposed he could have demanded it from anyone, but that would cost time. Instead, he simply clenched a fist, reaching out to the Force to draw upon every feeling of anger, of fury, of frustration, of _desperation,_ and _squeezed_ until the durasteel crumpled and the door gave way. 

Now he was staring at a dark, seemingly endless pit that led to a turbolift...and, somewhere near the very bottom, his son. 

  
  


The jungle of Felucia was silent, excepting the occasional chirp of a bird, or scurrying of a small insect. At night, it was louder. But it was not night yet--the sun had just begun to set, and the moons had not quite risen--and so the jungle was the most peaceful, the most quiet place to be. 

Until a scream echoed through its trees. 

"Help!" a male voice shrieked, accompanied by the man himself tearing through the undergrowth at top speed. "Please--please, someone! HELP!"

The man was Jamet, and Aphra watched him go with a self-satisfied chuckle. Maybe she shouldn't have mocked him so much for his acting skills; he seemed to be doing pretty well so far, and if he showed that level of panic to Vader, he just might believe it. 

Which meant that Aphra was a free woman. 

She currently stunk like nothing she'd ever smelled before, but she didn't care--with a loud whoop, she went dancing through the jungle, turning cartwheels and climbing up trees and swinging from vines. 

At last she landed on the ground, triumphant. 

What would she do now? She supposed she could leave, do anything she wanted; but, of course, there was the thing with the scientists, which still demanded her attention. Maybe she should get to that. 

Or maybe not. Jamet did have her map, after all. 

Aphra sank down to the dirt, leaning her back against a tree, and closed her eyes. She had to have left the scent all across this swathe of the jungle by now; that was as good a trail as any. 

It felt good to relax. 

Some sort of bird chirped near her ear, and Aphra opened her eyes. It was a hooti, a nocturnal bird; close to a dragon in anatomy, judging by the angular features, and three-toed feet. 

"Nice to be free, isn't it," said Aphra lazily. "Until a hunter shoots you down, obviously. But maybe there aren't too many of those on this jungle rock." 

The bird merely cawed once and flew away. 

"Yeah, sure, good riddance." Aphra felt on the jungle floor, feeling with her hands to settle into a more comfortable position. 

Her fingers touched something sharp. 

Quickly, Aphra pulled her hands away, but there was no blood; whatever it was hadn't been that sharp. But her curiosity was piqued. Turning so that she was on her knees, she bent down and examined the earth. There was dirt, a weed she was sure wasn't dangerous, thick grass...ah, there it was. Something white, little tiny pieces of it, leading away from the tree. 

Aphra followed it, fingers tracing the trail of tiny white pieces of...she couldn't guess at what it _was._ Maybe it was an egg, some sort of bird egg. 

But why was it on the ground? All except two species of birds laid their eggs in trees. Of course, this could be a new species, but Felucia was a Core planet, so she doubted it.

The pieces of egg were gradually growing larger; Aphra suspected she was near the end of the trail. There were tiny claw marks that accompanied it; yes, definitely a bird. Excited now, Aphra continued searching--

Then she froze.

She was facing what was definitely an egg, half gone and with jagged edges. Yes, it was an egg, and by the freshness of the marks it had recently hatched. 

But judging by the size of the egg, it was much, much too large to be any kind of bird. 

About fifty times too large. 

In fact, as she looked at the markings on the egg, Aphra decided that it could only be the egg of a dragon.

  
  


Luke and Ruya walked around for a few minutes, both with different objectives. Ruya wanted to discover more of the ground level, and see if there were any toys for children; Luke wanted to find a way out of the hospital this far down. Several minutes ago he had left the child behind. That way if Vader found him, alone, he wouldn’t kill her out of spite or...whatever it was that made him want people dead.

It was deathly quiet down here, too much for Luke’s comfort; as he crept round corners and checked inside rooms, images and memories of Bespin, of walking in the silence feeling as though he were being watched, of a sudden hiss of a respirator and the black specter bearing down on him, assaulted his mind. Several times he closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to bring himself back to the present. But so far he had found nothing; there were no doors, no exits. Only more rooms. 

As he passed under a doorway, the floor changed; it began to look older and less polished, and yet whiter. There was no color here; only white walls and floors, and all of it looked at least several years older. On the doorframe above him there was a sign reading L.A.R.S. in faded letters. 

This must have been the older part of the lab, he realized, that wasn’t fully renovated. Excited, he pressed forward; he still didn’t know what the too-familiar name stood for. Maybe, in one of these rooms, he would find out. 

Then as he turned another corner, a particular set of marks caught his eye. These weren’t old black marks made from footprints, the kind he’d seen so far; these were long, and thin, almost like...claws. They were like claws.

Luke walked more slowly now, examining the clawmarks; they weren’t very big, but they appeared fairly...recent, compared to everything else in this area of the hospital. That was confusing. He thought this place had been shut down months ago, in order for renovation to begin…

Luke rounded another corner, more carefully. He didn’t know why, he couldn’t explain it, but there was some awful sense about this place, something the Force was warning him about...something about _this corridor exactly...._

The dream.

Luke froze, realizing the truth in an instant.

The vision. 

This was the exact corridor from his vision, the same hallway where he’d come into that room, where he’d heard the noises, where Vader had been waiting for him--

Luke’s hand twitched with a phantom pain.

And up ahead, a familiar door was open. The door. The one where Han had been calling, except it wasn’t Han, it was--

He wasn’t thinking. There wasn’t a single logical thought going through his mind, only the need to move. Luke turned around in an instant and ran, ran faster than he’d run in his life, knowing that Ruya was back there and Vader was coming closer and they needed to _go._

“Ruya!” he shouted, knowing that anyone could hear him if he shouted but not caring, only needing to find her. “Ruya, where are you?”

Hallways and doors and corridors flashed past him, white walls turning into beige and greens and he was almost there, but danger was behind him and he needed to--

Movement. Luke froze with a yell, and Ruya shrieked. 

It was only her; she’d heard him and come around a corner. Slowly, Luke began to relax. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked him. “Is it your enemies? Are they--”

“Yes. We need to go.”

He pushed her ahead, looking over his shoulder every now and then but not too quickly, not wanting to frighten her. The turbolift was straight ahead.

“Sor--sorry,” he panted. “Sorry about that. I panicked.”

“S’okay,” she said, but he could tell she was a little frightened. “Who’s chasing you?”

“Someone…” Luke swallowed. “Someone who would kill you without a second thought.”

“But you? Will he kill you?”

“I…” That was a question Luke had been asking for weeks, and still had no answer to. “I don’t know.”

“Why?”

_Obi-Wan never told you..._

“Because…” Luke sighed. The truth. Kids needed the truth. He hadn’t been told the truth, and he’d been destroyed. “All right. I’ll tell you just this one bit. The man chasing me is Darth Vader.”

“Darth _Vader?_ ” Ruya’s eyes widened. “He’s...he’s from the Empire. Are you from the Empire?”

“No. I’m the opposite. That’s why he’s chasing me.” Well, part of it. 

The turbolift opened. Luke and Ruya stepped in, and Luke pressed the button that went up. He looked ahead; still no one was coming. He heaved a sigh of relief. 

They were safe.

“Because you’re a...a Rebel?”

“Yes. Because I’m a Rebel...and well, because I’m a Jedi.”

“A…” Ruya gasped again, but this time in delight. “A Jedi! Really? What can you do?”

“Not much.” Luke laughed; Ruya’s chatter was helping to distract him. “I’m still learning. But I can summon objects into my hand.”

Ruya grinned. “Wow, that sounds awesome.”

“It…” Luke smiled. “Well, it kind of is.”

“But so, Darth Vader--”

_Great. Back to my favorite subject._

“So he...doesn’t want to kill you?”

“I don’t know.” He couldn’t answer that. He couldn’t even think about it. 

“And he’s…” Her voice grew quieter. “He’s here?”

“Not _here_ here.” Maybe. “He’s in the hospital, and I wondered if he was downstairs, so that’s why I ran.”

“But so we’re going up, so we got away.”

“Yeah.” Luke ruffled her hair, and she giggled. “We got away.”

As the turbolift traveled upward, there was a hum all around them; Luke was used to that now. Turbolifts had been a new sensation when he left Tatooine, but now he’d been in enough that he was used to it. 

What was strange was the hum gradually getting _louder._

First it had been quiet. Then he could hear it over his own thoughts, he was noticing it; then, then it was almost unbearably loud, a constant grating hum that he’d only heard--

That he’d only heard from his lightsaber. 

Cold panic pooled in his stomach. 

The hum stopped. 

A circular portion of the ceiling gave way and dropped to the floor of the turbolift with a loud thud. Ruya shouted, jumping back toward him. Luke didn't move. Slowly, very, very slowly, he raised his eyes to the hole in the ceiling. 

Just as Darth Vader dropped into the turbolift. 


	8. First Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Vader come face to face for the first time since Bespin; Aphra makes a discovery; Piett and Veers become detectives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to the magnificent KaelinaLovesLomaris for looking over!

Luke could only stare up at Darth Vader, his mouth open in shock and horror. 

It didn’t matter how he'd done it, all that mattered was that he was _here,_ and Luke wasn't ready for this, it had barely been a month!

Damn him. _Damn him._

Luke hadn’t seen it coming, and he _should_ have. It only showed how ignorant he was, how naive, how completely untrained and weak he was compared to Vader, didn't it? He hadn't seen it coming. He hadn't even begun to suspect that his enemy would be coming from _up_ instead of _down,_ it had come so suddenly, he didn’t have any weapon except for a blaster and now he was _trapped here with him._

Gradually, Luke became aware that Ruya was trembling slightly at his side. Right. He wasn’t alone, there was a child who he had to protect. It was at this moment that the fear really kicked in--he could feel it in his wrists as his heart pumped blood faster through his veins, in his head as he suddenly felt light-headed--but he still managed to move, grabbing Ruya’s shoulder and pushing her behind him as he himself backed away, toward the corner of the lift. 

And for several long, torturous seconds, Vader was utterly still, utterly silent. He didn’t speak. He didn’t even move. He just _stood there,_ towering over the two of them. Waiting. Luke couldn’t see his eyes--that mask, with its skeletal frame and black, dead gaze, had always been the most horrifying thing about the Sith Lord--but somehow he knew, inexplicably, that Vader was looking directly at him.

He shuddered. 

And still the turbolift continued up, the hum of it the only sound beside the grating respirator, Ruya’s soft whimpers, and Luke’s own ragged breathing. 

“So,” Vader said at last, softly, _triumphantly._ The Force _rang_ with triumph, and that would have angered Luke if he hadn’t been so terrified by that voice that seemed to come from hell. “I have you at last.”

That _did_ make Luke angry. Furious, even. 

“No,” he snarled. “You _don’t!_ ”

He drew his blaster and fired before Vader could stop him, again and again and--

With a sharp tug of the Force, the blaster was yanked out of his hand. 

“You will have no need of that.” Almost carelessly, Vader tossed the blaster out of the hole he’d just made in the turbolift. 

Cold dread pooled in Luke’s stomach. Now he had no weapons. 

“No?” He tried to keep his voice from shaking. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t need it if I still had my old lightsaber!"

In an instant, the temperature seemed to drop; the atmosphere turned to frigid ice, and Luke pressed back further against the wall. That had angered him. Why? What was it, did he think what had happened on Bespin was somehow Luke’s fault? 

“Soon you will have another," Vader said, and now he _did_ move, approaching Luke one slow step at a time. "Soon you will join me, and under my instruction, you will construct a new lightsaber." 

A Sith lightsaber, he meant. Red, the color of the blood it was meant to spill. Just like his. 

Never. 

Vader continued to come closer. Luke slid along the wall, clutching Ruya to his side, until the turbolift doors were against his back. Then Vader stopped, less than a foot away from them. In such close proximity, he seemed to have grown in size; whether that was Luke’s fear or not he couldn’t tell, but he turned his face away from Vader as far as he could. 

He was finding it hard to breathe. 

At his side, Ruya let out another small whimper. 

Right. Right. Get Ruya out, stop thinking about yourself. He was not alone, he was not alone. He had a kid with him; and even though Vader claimed he wouldn’t harm Luke, even though Ruya was a child, that didn’t mean she was safe. Far from it. More than likely, Vader was frustrated that she was here, because it meant he couldn’t say everything to Luke that he, perhaps, wanted to say. 

Whatever happened to him, Luke _could not_ let Vader hurt her. 

“I have no intention of harming you,” Vader said, and there was both frigid cold and fiery anger in his voice. “There is little remaining time left to us. If you wish to defeat the Emperor, you must trust me.”

“Trust you.” Luke laughed bitterly. “Trust _you?_ ”

There was a jolt as the turbolift stopped. The doors slid open. 

“You do not understand,” Vader said. “You are still in shock, and believe it or not, you _can_ trust me-”

“You tortured my friends,” he shot back. “Why the hell would I trust you?”

With every ounce of strength possible, Luke gathered the Force around him and _pushed._ Seizing Ruya’s hand, Luke hit the ground floor button, dove out of the lift just before the doors closed, and sprinted away from his enemy. 

  
  


Luke’s attack came so suddenly that Vader hadn’t seen it coming; taken by surprise, he was thrown back against the wall as the lift doors shut, too stunned to move. Then, as the lift began to move down, he realized what had happened. 

His son had escaped him. _Again._

“Not this time,” he growled, reaching out into the Force and reversing the turbolift’s mechanism. By the time he had arrived on the sixth floor and wrenched the doors open, Luke and that child were nowhere in sight. But that was no matter. They were close, and he would find them. He would find Luke. It was too tantalizing to have a meager, frustrating conversation with him, and then to lose him. 

No. He would not allow it. 

He was Darth Vader, and he would not be denied. 

  
  


Dragon eggs. Dragon eggs. 

Aphra picked up the egg, turning it over. There were no Felucian dragons. How in the name of anything holy were there _dragons_ on _Felucia?_

She hadn’t seen any dragons. But this was a dragon’s egg, 

And where there was an egg, there had to be a mother.

She had to have it written down somewhere. Throwing down her bag, Aphra tore through it, looking for any kind of records, anything she might have stashed somewhere...there. Her own sort of diary, a record of every creature she had discovered, extinct or not. Dragons would be towards the front; she kept everything alphabetized. 

Turning, Aphra sat down with her back against a tree so that she could read. 

**_Arkanian Dragon._ ** _Classification: Reptile, subspecies Chemilizard. Semi-sentient. Native to Arkania, ice world in Perave system. Abilities: fire-breathing, flight. Uses: hard silvery scales, which are immune to weapons such as vibroblades but might be pierced by a direct blow from a lightsaber, were used as shields during the birth of the Je’daii. Extinct in 3000, modern system._

Okay, extinct creatures wouldn’t help her here. Aphra read on. 

**_Ithorian Dragon._ ** _Classification: Reptile, subspecies Komodon. Semi-sentient. Native to Ithor. Abilities: camouflage, nocturnal. Uses: if trained, could be useful in hunting down smaller predators. Endangered, do not hunt._

That one might be useful. Aphra turned another page, examining the egg description she’d written: _small, thin, blue spots._

That was a no. This egg was large, and it had no spots. 

Aphra read on. 

**_Krayt Dragon._ ** _Classification:; Large reptile. Two subspecies, turn page to find out._

“Turn page to find out.” Had she really written that? What a smartass. 

**_Canyon Krayt._ ** _Native to Tatooine, once lived on Jakku but quickly died out there. Abilities: hunt in packs, leap great distances, almost sentient in its intelligence. Uses: no. Do not approach. Extinct as of ten years ago._

 **_Greater Krayt._ ** _Better known as_ **_Tyrant King._ ** _Native to Tatooine. Abilities: sprint at great speeds for its size, eat up to 230 kg, smell using tongue. Once capable of fire breathing, mutation lost it this skill as it became a water drinker. Extinct, when alive was extremely dangerous._

Curious, Aphra turned the page, looking at the egg description. The Tyrant’s read: _Very large, about the size of a shield. Dark gray spots._

No. That most certainly did not apply, for obvious reasons. It was extinct. 

Then she looked at the Canyon Krayt’s--that was a problem. Most often, this one was just called “the krayt,” due to it being the only species of its kind for a long time. Aphra scribbled that in the margin: _just krayt, canyon stupid name._

The description read: _twice the size of a bird’s egg, large but able to fit in small spaces. Dark beige color, tiny white spots like pinpricks._

No way. 

No _freaking_ way. 

Aphra looked at the half of an egg she held in her hand. It was a perfect match.

But how were there krayts on Felucia? 

_Extinct_ krayts? 

All the skeletons and fossils had been accounted for. Aphra had been to Tatooine herself, had marked them, had recorded them. The extinction had been recent, but it had happened. 

The only explanation she could think of was that someone had realized that they were going extinct, had transported a male and a female off Tatooine, and placed them in Felucia. 

Someone? 

Now that she thought about it, there was really only one _someone_ it could be.

The lab. LARS, whatever it stood for. Which meant that she couldn’t leave any time soon. She had to do what she’d come here for. 

She had to find that lab. 

  
  


Luke didn’t stop moving until he’d put good distance between them and the turbolift. There was no way his diversion would last very long; if Vader hadn’t been angry before, he would be now. There was no telling what he’d do when he found Luke. 

Which meant he had to ditch Ruya. 

He led them along, Ruya completely silent for once, until they’d gotten back to the Emergency Wing. Luke looked over his shoulder--no one was behind them--before pulling Ruya into the gift shop. 

“You can’t stay with me,” he said. “You have to get back to your grandparents.”

“But--but he’ll kill you,” Ruya protested. 

“No, he won’t,” Luke told her, though he wasn’t entirely sure of that himself. “He won’t kill me, because he wants something from me. But he _will_ kill _you,_ do you understand?”

“But--”

“No!” he said sharply. “Darth Vader’s been obsessed with me for the last three years, and he’s either killed or tortured anyone remotely associated with me. You need to go back to your family, or I’ll take you there myself because I do not want anything to happen to you!” 

Ruya’s eyes were wide, and Luke realized he was scaring her. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again before speaking. 

“Please,” he said. “I’m sorry. I have a lot of things going on right now.”

It took a moment, but Ruya gave him a shy smile. “Okay. I’ll go. My parents are probably wondering where I am anyway.” 

“Okay.” Luke gave a long sigh of relief. “Thank you.” 

They both stood up. 

“But…” Luke looked back down at Ruya; she had stopped smiling. “He won’t do anything bad to you, will he?”

Anything bad. Luke wanted to cry; children could be so innocent. 

“Well, he won’t kill me.” Luke took a shuddering breath. “As for the rest...I don’t know. But I’m a Jedi, so I might be able to stop him.” 

“Okay.” Ruya still looked reluctant, but she walked to the gift shop’s exit. “Get safe fast, okay?”

“I will,” Luke said with a laugh. “You, too!” 

“Okay,” she said again, before running toward the turbolifts where they had originally met. 

Luke took several deep breaths, looking around. The knowledge that Ruya was away from him, _safe,_ made him feel a bit better, but he wasn’t out of the woods yet. He had to escape Vader, or “get safe fast” as Ruya had put it; he had no other option. The man had already shown that he was still on the single-track mindset of turning Luke that he’d been on for almost three years, and Luke was _not_ going to allow himself to be captured. 

He needed a plan, and a better one than last time. 

Vader was sure to be closing in on him now, but Luke didn’t want to try to reach out to him; it was clear that the last time, doing that had allowed Vader to discover where he was. So that wasn’t an option. 

He was on the main level now. He could just walk out the door and make a break for his X-Wing. 

The question was _how_ to get out. 

Luke raised his eyes. There was a sign above him that read HOLDING BAY - SPEEDERS ON RESERVE. 

Perfect. 

Not only was that a remote area in the hospital, separate from the rest of the building, it also provided him with a vehicle with which to escape. 

  
  
  


Luke was one floor below him. Vader could sense it, and he was euphoric. 

The only question was how to get to him. One thing was clear: like before, Luke must not be able to sense him coming until he was there. And unlike before, he would not be in such a limited environment. 

So. How to execute the surprise? 

Vader’s experience with his son had taught him that Luke was most likely to take unexpected paths; instead of going up, he had gone across to the other hospital and then down. So, in order to escape his father, he would go either through the kitchens or the holding bay. The kitchens, Vader decided, would get Luke discovered easily; and in the holding bay, there were speeders, which he would logically want to use to escape. 

The holding bay it was. 

  
  
  


“Why?” Veers demanded. “What about Felucia? What’s going on down there?”

“The last few months, he’s been on my case about some...some laboratory there,” Piett explained as they walked. “Accidents, missing people, Stormtroopers disobeying protocol--”

Veers’ eyes widened. “LARS? The one that was shut down?”

“Exactly the one. Allegedly, they were informing us about any Rebel activity on Felucia, and in exchange no one would investigate them. But then, about a year ago, they went radio silent. The Empire decided to look into it; I actually had the case for a few weeks. It was passed along from captain to captain, so when I became Admiral--”

“Venka got it,” Veers finished. “But what would he be suspicious about?”

“Well…” Piett rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s been a lot going on this year; I almost forgot about it. But when I investigated the place, the scientists I spoke to seemed extremely anxious. They were trying to hide things from me. Certain areas of the laboratory were blocked off; once I tried to get through a locked door, and they panicked. One of my men found a long tube on the floor, accompanied by a syringe, and what I deduced from that was that they’d been experimenting on themselves and had been driven insane.”

“But that wasn’t it.”

“No. As we were leaving, one of our troops wasn’t with us…” Piett sighed. “Yes, I remember now. This was shortly before Hoth, you understand, so pardon me for forgetting most of it. One of the Stormtroopers had gone to the lower levels to investigate a sound he’d heard...when it was time to leave, he didn’t show up. He’d just disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Veers stopped short. “You think he got killed, don’t you?”

Piett nodded. “What other explanation could there be? And that worried me for many reasons; I was just relieved we were shutting the whole thing down, and I wrote a note to hurry the process. Because, you see...the death of that trooper was not the first. It was the seventh.”

Veers’ eyes widened. 

“Allegedly, this is what happened.” Piett lowered his voice. “Before the case was transferred to the _Executor,_ Captain Zurnet from the _Imperator_ had charge of it; six troopers were found dead in the jungle.”

“The jungle,” Veers echoed. “Then, whatever substance LARS was manufacturing somehow...got out?”

“Yes. That’s what we all guessed, but the interesting thing is that the Stormtrooper from my party was killed _inside_ the laboratory. Whatever this is, it spreads quickly, and it is absolutely lethal. What I guessed was that they had experienced some sort of toxic leak, both in the lower levels of their lab and outside.”

“Maybe through the rivers,” Veers suggested.

“Maybe. But I had no time to look into it; soon it wasn’t my business. As you know, two months ago I was...promoted...to the position of Admiral.”

Veers snorted. 

“What a lovely system we have here,” he scoffed. “You don’t even have to do your job well, just wait for the person just above you to screw up and get killed.” He shook his head. “And _then_ you learn to do your job. Damned fast, too.”

Piett shook his head. “Come on, we need to get to the docking bay.” 

“So Venka took over the case,” Veers said as they began walking again. “And clearly, he found something.”

“Yes, I see that now, but I didn’t _then._ ” Piett gave a heavy sigh. “He simply came back with the report that the facility was extremely dangerous and needed to be shut down; that was all I heard. But a month ago a Stormtrooper was worried enough about it to wander _onto the bridge._ ”

“I’m guessing Lord Vader killed him.”

“You would be right.”

“Maybe another trooper died,” Veers thought aloud. “Or several. This Stormtrooper may have become angry and decided to do something about it.”

“And yet, Venka didn’t show any sign of taking care of it. Then he came to me, several days ago, panicked about the facility and demanding I do something, that some Rebels were coming there...and today the very knowledge that Vader is currently near what was formerly the laboratory almost gave him an anxiety attack.” 

Veers stopped again, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 

Piett frowned. “What is it?”

“You think he knows much more than he revealed in that report,” Veers said. 

“I think he knows much more than he revealed in that report,” Piett confirmed.

Veers studied his friend. “Do we really want to go the docking bay?”

“I must, to at least give the officers some peace of mind. But after that…” Piett smiled. “I think we need to find the full report.” 

  
  


Once again, Vader was on the hunt. But this time, he would make sure that the environment was in his control. There would be no turbolift system to navigate, no limited spaces, and _certainly_ no extraneous children to keep him from saying what he wanted to say. He did not know who that girl had been, but child or not, she was worthless. If she was all that stood between him and his son, she would be dead. 

But most of all, he would be prepared for his son’s strength. Vader had underestimated him before, in the turbolift; he should have learned at Bespin that that was a foolish thing to do. It was Luke’s obvious fear that had lowered his guard; but there was a stubborn streak in the boy that was not easily defeated. He would never give up. That streak was something Vader looked forward to honing and turning to his advantage; but he would never turn it to his advantage if he did not first capture Luke! 

His son was turning out to be a very, very frustrating person to deal with. 

“Where is Luke Skywalker?” he demanded to a wing of frightened personnel. Most likely, they had heard the alarm go off. 

“He went that way,” a dazed nurse told him. “He was running fast, he didn’t want to be seen...he’s in the holding bay!”

Excellent. He had not told her to tell him, so it would not be a trick this time.

It was an easy matter to go across the main level toward the holding bay. As he approached it, something came to him in the Force, an immediate sense of closeness. His son was near; he could sense it, and it spurred him on. 

Fortunately, the holding bay was empty of anyone else. 

He moved forward. He could still sense that Luke was not exactly _very_ near; but he was close enough, and the holding bay was large. 

Luke must not sense him. That was key. 

And if anything was audible in this holding bay, it was that damned respirator of his. If it were not necessary to sustain his life, he would have ripped it out long ago. But there was something he might to do...spread out the sound, so to speak. He did not want to spread out his presence so soon, but there was no other option. He reached out, touching eight speeders all across the holding bay, and activated them with the Force. 

The hum of engines filled the atmosphere. Behind the mask, Vader smiled. Now, now Luke would never hear him coming, and very soon he…

Wait. 

Spreading out his presence, Vader realized belatedly, had inadvertently revealed something else to him. 

Luke was nowhere in the holding bay. 

Upon reaching out to his son, Vader knew in an instant: Luke was headed away from him. When Vader had gone into the holding bay, his son must not have been far away, but now that he was here...yes. There was a sense of urgency to the boy’s presence. 

He was making a break for it. He was running for his X-Wing. 

But how? Vader asked the question, even as he unsheathed his lightsaber and demolished an entire row of speeders in his rage; the vehicles too far away to be touched were sent flying into the wall. What had he learned, the nurse had--

Of course. A Jedi mind trick. 

His son had attempted this two years ago, he knew, and had failed; his spies had told him this. But Luke had improved greatly between then and Bespin. Someone--he would get this out of him, _when he found him, the blasted boy_ \--had trained Luke extensively; and under that Jedi’s tutelage he must have perfected this. 

The nurse had been _dazed._ Of course. Why had he not seen it?

Vader reached out again. Triumph tinged Luke’s presence; he felt farther away now, yes, farther with every passing second. Soon he would be gone…

“NO!” It was less of a word than a _roar_ that escaped him as he followed his son’s signature into the jungle. Vader could leave now, but more than likely he would not reach Luke in time...

Unless Luke saw a reason to come back. 

There was one more option left to him; it was his last hope. 

Determination coursing through him, Vader _lunged_ out into the Force with all of his considerable strength. He felt the instinctive terror from Luke as his son recoiled, but Vader did _not_ care. He _should_ be terrified. Luke had now defied him twice, had tricked him twice. 

Vader would not allow either of those to happen a third time. 

_“You cannot evade me forever, boy,”_ he hissed, both out loud and through the Force. “If I do not find you within the hour, I will kill every creature in this hospital until you show yourself. I am your father, I am a Sith Lord, and _you cannot escape me!”_

  
  
  


The second Luke set foot outside the hospital, he ran like hell. 

It had been a last minute decision, pulling a mind trick on one of the nurses, but he’d noticed her earlier, drinking on the job; her mind was already weakened. Despite uncomfortable musings that maybe Vader would have done the same thing--taking advantage of someone else’s weakness--he hadn’t harmed anyone. Then he had gone for the most obvious exit: the main one. Vader had learned that Luke did the unexpected, so to trick him, he had taken the expected route.

Now he just had to trust that Vader would fall for it. That it _wouldn’t_ be like last time. 

At least now he was outside. And _Force,_ was it hot. It was worse than Yavin 4 had been. The air was so humid it almost felt wet, and in minutes Luke’s clothes were sticking to his skin. 

But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. 

He could go through the field, he supposed; that was how he’d come here. But that would take longer, and he was _pretty sure_ that he could reach the same spot by cutting straight through the jungle. 

The flora rustled loudly as he crashed through it, but he didn’t care. It wouldn’t matter if he was quiet; Vader would be able to tell where he was with little effort. He knew that by now. So what he had to do was run _fast,_ regardless of how much noise he made. He was sure he was tearing up the ground, alerting himself to every creature within a thousand mile radius, but as long as none of those creatures were Vader--

Rage. 

Pure, indescribable _fury_ reached him, washed over him like a tidal wave; but at once, the feeling gave Luke no terror. It overjoyed him. Judging by the extent of that rage, Vader had fallen right into the trap Luke had set for him, and just now had realized Luke was nowhere near the holding bay. 

But even in the midst of his triumph, Luke had the presence of mind not to drop his guard. Now that Vader knew, he would be coming for him, angrier than ever. 

Well. It wasn’t as if he could _do_ anything to him. Luke was already deep in the jungle; the X-Wing couldn’t be far. If he just kept running, by the time Vader got outside, Luke would be long gone. 

With a whoop of joy--real joy, the first he’d felt in weeks, and wasn’t that strange--Luke cleared a log lying in the undergrowth, crashed through more fauna--

He stopped dead. 

Without warning, and with terrible speed, Vader’s presence reached out to him, powerfully terrifying waves of fury and determination and...and _possessiveness,_ surrounding his mind. Luke pulled his presence back, as far as it could go, but that did almost nothing. Vader was _so determined_ to have him, as determined as Luke had ever seen anyone be about anything, and he would stop at nothing to succeed. 

It terrified him. 

**_“-cannot evade me forever, boy,”_ ** reverberated in his mind--Vader was _in his head,_ again, but this time louder than he had ever been. The waves of fury pulsated through his mind, loud and persistent, so persistent that for the moment he could hardly distinguish it from his own thoughts. **_“If I do not find you within the hour, I will kill every creature in this hospital until you show yourself. I am--”_ **

But as terrible as the last part was, Luke almost stopped processing it. _Kill everyone in the hospital._ If he didn’t find Luke in an hour. Which he wouldn’t, because the X-Wing was under a mile away. And then, with Luke off planet, there would be a massacre. Hundreds of people, many of them already injured and weak and close to death, would die...because of him. 

Luke slid down to the ground. 

Elderly people--grandmothers, grandfathers, spending time with their family. Pregnant women. Newborn babies. All the injured Rebels, so relieved to be able to be treated well. Children--

Ruya. 

Luke closed his eyes, clenching his right hand into a fist. What could he do?

What could he _possibly do?_

He looked out towards the jungle. In the distance, he could see the gleam of orange.

He was so close. _So close_ to freedom, and yet…

The moment he left, innocent people would die. It would be the moment he left, because Vader would sense it, and then children would die, feisty Ruya would die…

But if he went with Vader, he might be forced to turn...and then, later, wouldn’t he be forced kill all those people anyway? 

No. No, he wouldn’t turn. He couldn’t. He had no option. He was growing weak, that was all, he was tired of running and all he wanted was a break, but he had to be stronger than that.

For his sanity's sake he had to be stronger.

“I’ll die first,” he whispered to himself, out loud. Saying the words helped. "I'll die before I give in."

Slowly, Luke stood up. Against his will, he turned himself back toward the hospital. 

He took a deep breath--

 _Danger,_ the Force whispered suddenly. _Danger, danger..._

It was behind him. Luke spun around. 

Nothing. 

He frowned, studying the jungle in front of him. Maybe he just didn’t see it. He wasn’t exactly in clear daylight, after all. There were trees all around, long leaves hanging down in front of him, so he could hardly see the jungle beyond it. 

And yet, the danger hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had increased.

 _Danger._ The Force was a little louder about it now; the sense of it ran through his veins, and sweat trickled down Luke’s back under the pressure. _Danger._

 _Where is it?_ Luke wanted to scream. _I don’t see anything!_

It would have been frustrating if it weren’t so damned terrifying. 

**Danger danger danger** screamed the Force; it was almost on him, and yet he couldn’t see anything. He didn’t know what to do! 

_Your eyes will deceive you. Don’t trust them._

Ben’s advice, from what felt like a million years ago on the Falcon. What an innocent time that had been, compared to now. 

_You know, you deceived me too, should I trust you?_ Luke thought back sarcastically. But it was the only option; the Force was screaming repeatedly--and, if he thought about it, he could feel cold air rushing over his face…

**DANGER DANGER DANGER DANGER  
**

Without thinking, Luke jumped. Straight up, into the sky, just as he had done on Bespin to escape the carbon freezing chamber. And, again, despite the completely unexplained terror that had him shaking and sweating like crazy, it worked. There was a low-hanging branch above him; Luke grabbed it, swung himself up, and kept climbing, branch after branch, as the sense of danger came nearer, until he was almost at the top--

Then the Force stopped screaming. 

Not a moment too soon. 

Below him, something _rammed_ into the tree, and Luke had to grab onto the branch above him to keep from being knocked onto the ground. Then he held on with all his strength, because even though he couldn’t _see_ what was down there, it was clear that it was something very huge, and very dangerous. The tree shook again, harder this time, but Luke didn’t so much as make a sound. He held on tighter, bracing himself for a third attack...but it never came. Instead, the flora began to rustle, branches and leaves swaying.

Heart hammering in his chest, Luke loosened his hold just slightly and peered down. Whatever had attacked him was leaving, that much he could tell; but he still couldn’t exactly _see_ it. He lowered himself several branches, careful not to make any sort of noise, and looked down at the ground. 

Still nothing. 

This was so frustrating...and terrifying. Clearly there was some unseen enemy here, some creature that could turn invisible at will, and he had no way of knowing if--

Wait.

Green skin.

Green, scaly skin. He was sure of it. 

He had no time to find the rest of the creature; the sound of rustling was growing farther away.

Luke still didn’t move. He waited in the tree, hunkered down behind a branch that was very conveniently hanging down in front of his face. His legs were growing numb, arms aching from holding onto the branch above him, but he didn’t move a muscle. He couldn’t risk the thing--whatever it was--coming back. 

After six or seven minutes had gone by, and Luke could hear nothing, he figured he was safe enough. Slowly and quietly, he lowered himself branch by branch until he was on the ground. 

Then he ran. 

Back toward the hospital, back toward Darth Vader, but away from that thing in the jungle--that was all he knew. Every sound behind him, every breath of wind, he wondered if it was behind him, watching him, and he ran faster, never stopping until--

\--he ran into someone. 

“Hey!” Doctor Aphra’s voice snapped him out of his panic. “Watch it, Skywalker!”

Luke stopped and steadied himself. “Aphra? I thought you--” Something that smelled like the combination of bantha waste and blue milk four months past its expiration date hit him, and he brought a hand up to his nose. “What the _hell is that?_ ”

“Me,” Aphra said. “Sorry. I...look, you pretty much hate Darth Vader, right?”

“Absolutely.” He said the statement easily. What bothered him was the guilt that immediately followed the statement. 

It was the Force again telling him he had a _duty_ to his _family._ What a load of--

“Yeah, so, I faked my death,” she explained, “sent my assistant off to tell him I’d gotten exposed to the senna root.”

“The senna root?” Luke knew exactly what that was, and now everything made sense. “Okay. So, somehow you made yourself smell the way that weed would.”

“Yeah. I put it on two hours ago, so at least it’s not as bad as it was then.”

“It was _worse?_ ”

“Yeah. It’ll be gone in a couple hours.” She frowned. “Why do you look so awful?”

“Well, first I was going to get off planet because Vader’s after me. Then I found out he wants to kill the entire population of the hospital if he doesn’t find me. Then--”

“Hold on.” Aphra held up a hand. “Then why are you still here?”

Luke glared at her. 

“Oh, right, you actually care about people you don’t even know,” she said innocently. “All right, go on.”

“Then this…” Luke swallowed. “Look, can we get out of the jungle?”

Aphra stared at him. 

Luke did not like that at all. She looked...afraid. That wasn’t usual for her. 

“What is it?” he demanded. 

She set her jaw. “No. You first.” 

“Something…” He shuddered. “Something _invisible_ attacked me.”

“Invisible?” She shook her head. “No, no, that can’t be right. How big was it?”

“I didn’t see it,” Luke reminded her. “But it rammed into the tree a few times.”

“But that doesn’t make sense.” Aphra pulled out her bag and started rapidly rifling through some notes. “They can’t turn invisible, some of them are huger than others but they can’t turn invisible--”

Now Luke was starting to feel afraid. “Who’s _they?”_

Aphra looked up at him. “Krayt dragons.” 


	9. Second Iteration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Things Escalate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY about the wait! I had a lot of Personal Issues going on, and then school gave me a lot of work. But now I'm back!

“Krayt dragons,” Luke repeated, dumbfounded. “ _Krayt dragons?_ ”

Aphra crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s what I said, genius.”

“I mean…” Luke ran a hand through his hair. “They only died out around ten years ago, so I guess it makes sense, but...I don’t know, they’re from Tatooine! I lived there for nineteen years, and let me tell you, the climates are completely different. This one’s wet, and humid. Constant rain. Tatooine is hot too, but dry, arid, it never rains.”

“It _never_ rains?” Aphra scoffed. “I doubt that. I mean, I was there and it never rained, but that was just for a few days--”

“Aphra.” Luke rolled his eyes. “We farmed water _out of the sky!_ ”

“Wait, really?” Aphra shrugged. “That’s news to me. Anyway. Did you ever run into a krayt dragon?”

“Once.” It had been the first time he met Ben Kenobi; on a dare, he and one of his friends--not Biggs--had gone into the Jundland Wastelands, they’d lost their animal, and gotten trapped in a krayt’s den. He could still remember how _fast_ it had moved, the awful crying roar it emitted, but it was so long ago it felt like a dream. “I was thirteen.”

“So. Around ten years ago.” Aphra frowned. “That must have been the last one. Were there others with it?”

Luke shook his head. “No. It was alone.”

“It’s almost guaranteed that was the last one. From everything I know, they hunted in packs.” 

“They did?” Luke couldn’t ever remember hearing anything about that. As a kid, all he’d known was that krayts didn’t come anywhere near civilization, but if you went too far they were sure to kill you. “I never heard anything about that.”

“Yeah, that’s probably because they were already close to extinction. Who knows? Maybe their behavior had already changed. Maybe they didn’t need packs to survive.”

“Well, they died out pretty soon after, so maybe they did.”

“Maybe. Whatever it is, it’s pretty clear that neither of us lived at the time when krayts were at their full strength.” She shook her head. “Whatever one is here, it won’t be anything like the canyon krayts used to be.”

“Canyon krayts?” Luke frowned. “Wait. Do you mean…?”

“There are two kinds of krayt dragons? Yeah. That’s exactly what I mean.” As Luke’s eyes widened, Aphra pulled out a journal packed to the brim with stray papers, notes, and documents, and opened it. “See this? Canyon krayt. _Greater krayt._ ”

Luke took the journal. “Let me see that.” 

**_Greater Krayt._ ** _Better known as_ **_Tyrant King._ ** _Native to Tatooine. Abilities: sprint at great speeds for its size, eat up to 230 kg, smell using tongue. Once capable of fire breathing, mutation lost it this skill as it became a water drinker. Extinct, when alive was extremely dangerous._

“So,” he said at last. “If the canyon krayts were just slightly larger than a full-grown man, we can assume that this one was…” He looked at the description and then back at Aphra. “About five times larger.” 

“More.” Aphra smiled. 

Luke stared at her. “ _More?_ ”

Aphra’s smile stretched; she seemed to be enjoying this. “Canyon was two meters, Greater was twelve. Twelve point one-nine-two, to be exact.”

Luke whistled. “ _Twelve meters?_ ” 

“Twelve meters.” Aphra shook her head. “The only question is...how did it get _here?_ ” 

“I don’t know. That’s what I--” 

He froze. Aphra said something, but he didn’t hear it. The darkness had surrounded him again, tightening round him like the coils of a snake. Searching. Probing. 

_No, no, no, not now, not_ now, _please just_ \--

 _“Tell me where you are,”_ the awful voice demanded; the words rang around, and it _hurt,_ an awful pressure pounding on his shields, and Luke pressed his hands to his head. Not that it did anything. 

_“Get out of my head,”_ he thought desperately. 

That was the first time he’d actually _communicated_ with Darth Vader inside his mind alone, and it felt very, very weird; thinking words instead of saying them, and having words thought back, was too uncanny for his taste. Not to mention just _who_ he was communicating with. 

The presence came back even stronger, indeed with so much strength Luke felt as if his head was going to burst. Was this how Vader planned on tormenting him until he decided to turn to the Dark? No physical torment, no interrogation--he’d said he wouldn’t harm him, after all, though Luke doubted how much he could trust that--but a psychological torment, an invasion into his mind, day after day, until he’d sufficiently beaten Luke into submission...was that what awaited him? 

No. Not yet. 

_“Tell me where you are,”_ Vader demanded again. **_“Tell me!”_ **

_“No,”_ Luke sent back, almost defiantly. 

The undercurrent of pure fury he was already sensing from Vader grew into a full-blown tidal wave. Luke pulled his presence back as far as he could. He could sense that Vader was about to say something, roar a threat at him, and he waited, holding his breath. 

_Don’t let him get to you,_ Luke thought, over and over. _Don’t let him terrify you, it’s just a tactic he’s using to try and coerce you into joining him..._

The anger cooled, shrank back. Luke was surprised. For several moments nothing happened, and then--

 _“Listen to me.”_ Vader’s mind-voice, for once, was not a roar, not a demand. It was soft, cool--if mind-voices could be described in terms of temperature--but somehow that made it worse. It was the calm before the storm. It was how the Dark Lord spoke when he knew he was going to get what he wanted. _“It has been twenty minutes. Do not let the other forty pass so lightly.”_

The next moment, the presence was gone. 

Luke shivered. He knew what that meant. In forty minutes, hundreds of innocent people would die. 

“Hey!” Aphra snapped her fingers in front of his face, and he blinked. “What the hell?”

“It’s...it’s Vader.” Luke swallowed. “He’s trying to find me, and if I don’t--”

“Oh, right, the friggin’ hospital innocents. Poor, poor people who you don’t know or have any connection to--”

That did it. Luke had had _enough_ of her attitude. 

“Force damn it, this is not a joke!” Furious, he slammed his metal hand into the side of a tree. The wood cracked and splintered, and the tree swayed. 

Aphra’s eyes widened slightly. “All right! God. I’m not an idiot. Come on, Skywalker, I know how you feel! He threw me out into space and I almost died, and ever since I’ve been running and hoping he wouldn’t find me, and I--”

“No! No, you don’t get it!” Luke sighed, running both hands through his hair. “I know he’s been hunting you, too, but this is so much worse. He’s been obsessed with me for the last three years. I’ve had to run all over the galaxy to escape him. I haven’t slept. And then last month he tortured Han and Leia and sent me _visions_ of them being tortured and drew me into a trap and beat me bloody and cut off my right hand, and now he’s found me, and he knows I feel responsible for other people and he doesn’t give a shit about them and he’s just using them to get to me because he doesn’t give a shit about my feelings either but it _works_ and I’m going to _have_ to go with him which means he’s going to torture me and manipulate me and destroy everything I am and everyone I love until I’m as murderous and self-centered and dangerous as he is and that’s why I’ve been trying to get away from him and _I just want to rest!_ ”

Choking back a sob, Luke slid down to his knees. 

He didn’t care what Aphra thought. He didn’t care what she said, or whether she thought he was a wimp, or weak, or decided to tell everyone Luke Skywalker wasn’t what he used to be. He had needed to get that _out_ of him, and it felt good. 

(Of course, there was an entire other layer to that that he wanted to get out more than anything, but he couldn’t even if his life depended on it.)

He was surprised when Aphra dropped down to her knees in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Then she laughed. “Wow. Wow, that took a lot of guts for me to admit, I’ve gotta tell you.” She shivered. “Whoo! Wow. Yeah. Yeah, that was uncomfortable. I don’t think I’m gonna do that again for--”

“If you’re going to be a selfish jerk,” Luke snapped, “then shut up.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Aphra said quickly. “I’m sorry. I can be standoffish. I don’t like people, I get along better with droids, or better, by myself. My parents had problems. Raiders attacked my home where I was living with my mother and killed her. She and my father split because he was too distracted with his work, so I burned down all his things.” She sighed. “So I can tend not to care about other people. You can say I’ve been burned a few times.”

But Luke wasn’t thinking about her attitude any longer. He was thinking about something else she’d said. 

“Wait,” he said. “You had problems with...with your father?”

She snorted. “Doesn’t even begin to describe it. I guess he cares about me in his own, twisted sort of way. But I’m not first on his list of priorities. No, his studies come first, and then success, and then safety, and then money. And then a few other dozen things. And then me.”

Luke stared at her, surprised and overjoyed beyond his wildest dreams. He’d never begun to imagine that he had anything in common with Aphra, but if that revelation were true...he might have found a kindred spirit. 

“I know exactly what you mean!” he said excitedly. 

“You do?” Aphra narrowed his eyes. “Your father’s dead.”

Whoops. 

“Uh, yeah...obviously,” Luke said weakly, searching wildly for another excuse. “I just, uh, when I was growing up on Tatooine...my Uncle Owen was as close to a father as I ever had, and he and I...didn’t exactly get along.” 

Aphra nodded slowly. “Okay. Makes sense.”

_Close one._

Aphra grinned. “Well, in that case, Skywalker, it turns out we’ve got more in common than we thought.” She held out her hand. “Welcome aboard the Father Issues Express.” 

Grinning back, Luke shook her hand. They stood up. 

At least, they tried to. Even as Luke was setting one knees on the ground to help him stand, the ground shook under his feet. He and Aphra fell down. 

“What the hell?” Aphra yelled over the shaking of the earth. “What the _hell?_ ”

Luke looked around, trying to see if the hospital was suffering any damage, or the trees. But the trees weren’t moving, and the hospital was just fine. 

It was only the ground under _their_ feet. 

Which, he realized abruptly, looked slightly lower than the ground anywhere else…

They were descending. 

“We’re on a trap door,” he said, having to shout over the continuing rumble. “Aphra, we’re on a trap door!”

“I heard you the first time,” she yelled back. 

Of course she could still manage to be sarcastic even in the middle of danger. Luke suppressed a smile. She was reminding him a lot of Han, which was both painful and exhilarating. 

Han. 

Somehow the thought of Han connected to the thought of Darth Vader, and Luke remembered that he had, at most, thirty minutes before Vader went on a manslaughter. He didn’t like the idea of it-- _didn’t like_ being a relative term, every molecule in his body was terrified at the mere _idea_ \--but he had to turn himself in. It was, maybe, his last heroic act before his mind was tormented for months and he lost all sense of himself, so he needed to do it. He needed to save those people. He was _not_ going to have Vader kill anyone else at his expense. 

“Aphra!” he shouted over the wind that had suddenly kicked in. “Aphra, I need to get out! Stop it! I need to get out, stop this thing!”

“Stop it? Do you think there’s a _button_ I can just push, dumbass?” 

“If you’re not going to be helpful, shut up!” Luke stood up cautiously. They were only five feet underground; he could make it if he moved now. He crouched, preparing all his strength, gathered the Force around him, and _jumped._

Too late. A durasteel-reinforced door slid across the opening just as he leaped.

Blackness. 

Suddenly he was lying down, he realized, with no memory of how he’d gotten there, his ears ringing and head spinning and feeling like he needed to throw up. 

_No,_ he thought desperately. _No! I need to get up!_

“Hey,” a distorted voice called from above him. It was Aphra. Luke blinked his eyes open and closed them again; there were at least three of her, and all of them seemed to be made of every bright color that had ever existed. “Hey, don’t move.”

But she didn’t understand. Hadn’t he just explained everything? He needed to move. 

“No, I need to move,” he said, though it came out more like _naighleetumoo._ Gripping the sides of the platform, he dragged his eyes open and started to sit up. “I--I need to--”

Colors flashed in front of his eyes, and he fell back. 

“Look, I understand,” Aphra said, and this time she was a little easier to look at. “I do. I know what Vader wants from you, but right now, we are _trapped_ down here.”

_No! I need to get out!_

Someone reached toward him. Luke raised his head. 

“Is...someone else here?” he asked, the words coming more easily now. 

“No, laserbrain. You almost killed yourself on a durasteel door and you’re going crazy.”

“Okay.” Luke lay back. “I think I’ll just...rest…”

Some seconds passed, as he lay there not moving and trying to regain his grip on reality. Then the movement began to slow, a screeching sound all around them, and Aphra gasped.

A moment later, blinding light poured over the edge of the platform. Luke covered his eyes. Why couldn’t anyone let him rest? 

“Maybe get up now,” came Aphra’s voice from above him. 

“Ugh.” He groaned. “In a minute.” 

“Um.” Aphra sounded as if she was struggling to talk. “I do know what I just said, but I take back everything. I don’t care how sick you feel, it’s going to pass in a minute and _you need to see this._ ”

“Oh, fine.” With a groan, Luke dragged himself upright, very slowly. Aphra was right; they had arrived, the platform resting at the bottom of a long chute. In front of them was a cavernous opening, and images began to assault his eyes so quickly he couldn’t take them all in at once. 

The room was extremely bright. 

The floor was covered in sand, and rocks, and earth. 

It looked like Tatooine. 

It felt dry, like Tatooine. 

Scientists of all different species and heights and appearances were wearing identical white coats and walking around, taking different notes. 

In front of the platform was a cage. 

The cage was filled with the same kind of sand and rocks that made Luke feel like he was home. Luke smiled.

Inside the cage was a bucket of water. 

Inside the cage was not only a bucket of water, but a scaly foot, and attached to the foot was a larger body, and--

Luke fell down again. 

Inside the cage was a dragon. 

  
  
  


“Now that that’s over with--” Piett heaved a sigh. “Follow me, Veers.”

“I’m still not sure what we’re looking for, Firmus.” The two men had just spent half an hour persuading many worried officers that there was no way they could find Venka with their present resources, and because of Lord Vader’s orders. “I mean, if Venka’s disobeyed orders and gone off, why not just let him commit suicide?”

“Because Vader will find out,” Piett snapped without stopping. “He always does. And because I’m the Admiral of this ship--”

“It all goes back to you.” Veers clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Point taken."

They turned a corner, and the deckplates began to hum slightly. Veers realized they were headed towards Engineering. That was strange in and of itself. 

"Why the devil aren't we going to your own office?" he wanted to know. "We've just established that you are the Admiral of this vessel, haven't we?"

Piett turned toward him, stopping temporarily. "I forget how uninvolved you are with the general politics of the _Executor,_ Max. There's an entire elaborate system you don't even know about." 

Veers was not amused. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, enlighten me."

Piett smiled. "Well, this is a second-rate, project. It probably should have been concerned first-rate; but we can't change what happened. It was labeled as second-rate, meaning that it was fit to be handled by the highest ranking Captain of first the _Accuser,_ and then the _Imperator,_ and finally our beloved _Executor._ The entire time--meaning, ever since I had control of the LARS case, and forward--the project files were stored in the computer system in Engineering, _not_ my own private office, which is where you must have assumed it would be, since most of the files on this vessel are under my jurisdiction."

Veers nodded curtly. "Yes, that makes better sense." He sighed. "All right, then, take me to this computer system." 

"Right this way." 

The two friends resumed their journey again, and they didn't have far to go. Several more corridors brought them to the source of the hum that was growing ever louder: a set of locked durasteel doors. 

Two security officers stepped out of nowhere. "This section is off limits to any without a permit. State your business."

"Admiral Piett," said Piettsharply. "And General Veers here with me. We are here on business regarding a project that was, I believe, mistakenly dropped. We need to examine it." 

"Admiral and General...very well." The officers stepped back. One of them entered what appeared to be a very complicated password, and then the doors unlocked and opened with a hiss.

They were inside Engineering. 

"Welcome, Admiral. General." A technician stepped forward to greet them. "How may I help you?" 

"We need to see File Number X-279-T," said Piett, reciting the identification code from memory. 

"That would be in the computer system," said the technician. "Follow me."

  
  


“Holy mother of moons,” Aphra said over and over; she couldn’t stop herself. She could barely think. “Holy mother of moons!” She’d suspected that there were dragons on Felucia, but not in a laboratory, and certainly not this _large!_ Krayts this big had existed thousands of years ago. If one was here…

Then what did that mean? 

Laboratory. Scientists. Extinct dragons. The words punctuated through the shock in Aphra’s brain, and she suddenly realized what it could all mean. The _only_ thing it could all mean. 

“They’re cloning dragons,” she gasped aloud. She turned to Skywalker, who was sitting on the platform, staring up at the gentle giant with his jaw slack and eyes wide open. 

He blinked, turning very slowly to look at her, as if coming out of a dream. “They what?”

“That’s supposed to be extinct,” Aphra said. “That thing is an extinct krayt dragon. These scientists brought them back to life, and they’re _cloning them!_ ”

“Holy--” Luke gasped. “How can they do that?” He looked back at the dragon. “Also, uh...I don’t think that ever existed. As far as I know, there were two kinds of krayts, and they were both carnivores.” 

It was true, Aphra realized. This was clearly a krayt, as evidenced by the small horns lining the head, the shape of its incisors, and the green, scaly skin; but it had a long, arching neck and none of the claws, larger horns, or ferocious attitude commonly associated with either the Greater or Canyon krayts. 

Something was up. 

But before she could figure out anything else, Aphra realized that everything had gone quiet. The scientists who had just been milling about, talking quietly and comparing notes, were standing completely silent in the middle of the room, staring and pointing at Aphra and Luke. 

One of the scientists stepped forward; a Mirialan. The one next to him was a Twi’lek, another a Muun...there were almost no humans among them, Aphra realized.

“Who are you?” asked the Mirialan. 

Aphra crossed her arms. “I might ask you the same…” 

She stopped. These were scientists; they were hiding underground, they’d cloned dragons...why hadn’t she seen it earlier? Her jaw dropped, and she swallowed repeatedly until she could talk. 

“Actually, no,” she said. “You’re the scientists I’ve been looking for.”

“Looking for?” The scientists looked at one another nervously, and then they all stepped closer as a unit. One of them pulled a blaster. “Are you with the Empire? Answer me!”

“The Empire?” Now that was insulting. “Are you _kidding me_ right now?” She gestured at Luke. “I’m running _from_ the Empire, we both are!”

“How do we know that?” demanded the Mirialan scientist. There were murmurs of agreement from the others. “This could be a trap! The Empire has been trying to find us for months; they could have sent you, to try to lure us out. To take us for torture and death!”

“Okay, that is _it!_ ” Furious, Aphra stepped off the platform, approaching the stuffy Mirialan with a glare. “If you knew anything about me you’d know I wouldn’t be caught _dead_ helping the Empire! But you did. I know you helped them, and that’s why you’re reacting like this, isn’t it? You’re _scared._ A bunch of cowards like you, you’re terrified of everything, aren’t you, especially the people you used to pimp yourselves out to--”

With shouts of rage, the scientists gathered round her; ten more blasters were drawn, and for one frightening moment Aphra wondered if she’d gone too far.

“You will not insult us like that again,” said the Mirialan in a low, dangerous voice. “If you knew anything of what we were doing here, everything we have spent, the hate we have received, you would not speak to us like that. I will forgive you once.” He raised his own blaster and held it in her face. “But say it again, say anything like that again and I will not hesitate to blow your brains out!”

Aphra curled her lip. She didn’t like ultimatums. 

“What’s that, a challenge?” she said with a smirk. 

That had been too much. Rage crossed the scientist’s face, his hand tightened on the blaster--

And an unseen force ripped it out of his hand. 

Slowly, the scientists turned around. Aphra turned with them, even though she knew who had done it. 

Luke was standing now, the blaster resting in his hand. 

“We’re not here to fight,” he said. “I promise. We came here by accident, and we didn’t mean to antagonize you.”

Antagonize? Aphra opened her mouth. 

“I apologize for my friend,” he said before she could speak. “She has a sensitive past; but I can assure you, she hates the Empire. And so do I. As I said, we only arrived by accident."

"You," said the Mirialan, "are a Jedi."

"Well…" A brief spasm, almost unnoticeable, crossed Luke's face. "Not quite. But I have the Force." 

"Jedi aren't typically associated with the Empire," Aphra added, trying to be helpful. 

"You seem to be mistaken," said the Mirialan coldly. "We have no love for the Empire...but neither do we serve the Rebellion. If you're involved with _either_ of them--" 

"What are you doing?"

They all turned toward the sound of the voice. Another Mirialan was standing at the far end of the long room, but this one looked different. He wasn't wearing a lab coat like the others. Instead, he was dressed in colorful robes, blues and greens, and he had a long necklace around his neck. 

"Doctor Pandaki," said the other Mirialan. "Thank goodness you're here. These are intruders! We don't know how they came in, and they are--"

"I'll tell you how they came in," said Pandaki, almost sharply. "I allowed them." 

Both parties were equally shocked.

"You did?" Aphra couldn't believe it.

Pandaki turned to regard her. "Chelli Lona Aphra. You've been looking for me."

"Yeah. How did you know?"

Pandaki smiled, ever so slightly. "When we moved our organization underground, we kept the cameras. We want to know whether there is danger to us or not."

"Why would there be danger?" asked Luke. 

"Now, you I don't know," said Pandaki, "although you look familiar." 

Luke shrugged. "I guess I just have one of those faces."

Pandaki regarded him shrewdly; Aphra suspected that he knew who Luke was, and just wasn't mentioning it for fear of his scientists going paranoid again. 

"Maybe," he said. "But to answer your question, surely you've seen our crowning jewel over there."

He gestured to the absurdly gentle dragon, who was simply standing in place, gnawing on a mouthful of grass. 

"Our operation is new," Pandaki explained, "and controversial. Its very existence invites competition. So you must forgive my scientists. Ever since we were driven out, we've had to be careful."

"Your...operation," Aphra echoed. "I still don't understand it. Clearly this is an extinct dragon. But I'm an archaeologist, and _I_ don't understand how it's possible."

"And I'm from Tatooine," Luke added. "I don't understand it either."

"An archaeologist and a Tatooine native!" Pandaki exclaimed delightfully. "Marvelous. You might just be the perfect combination...yes!"

"Combination for what?" Luke asked.

"For the past months, I have dreamed that one day, I would find outsiders to champion my organization, and give me the boost I need to bring it to the public!" Pandaki rubbed his hands together. "Perhaps. But first I must explain myself. And so, for an introduction." He spread his arms wide. "Welcome to the Laboratory of Archaeological Resurrection Science!"

  
  


It was difficult to wait. A life on the _Executor_ meant that everything was performed as quickly and efficiently as possible, that there were no waits, that information was relayed immediately. But for this, Piett was willing to wait. 

"A-ha!" At last the technician stepped back. "File X-279-T. Here you go." 

"Thank you," Piett told him. "Do you mind leaving us alone? This is confidential information, and I--"

"Of course, sir," said the technician hastily. "Take all the time you want; I'll be outside the immediate door to the rest of Engineering. Just knock when you're done, and I'll let you out."

With a short salute, he left. 

The sound of the durasteel doors closing behind them was almost ominous. 

“All right, Firmus.” Veers touched the link to the file, and pages of Aurebesh popped up. “Here it is.” 

Piett hunched in beside his friend and read the series of reports.

 **_Captain Ramos Gilden, Accuser, Report -_ ** _Report detailing the investigation of LARS(Laboratory of Archaeological Resurrection Science), located on Felucia._

That stopped them short. Piett and Veers glanced at each other. 

“Archaeological Resurrection Science?” Veers echoed in disbelief. “What...what exactly are they resurrecting?”

“Well, if it’s archaeology…” Piett squinted at the screen. “It can only be some sort of extinct creature.” He shook his head. “Keep reading, we’ll find out what.”

_Considering their silence, the Empire must be certain that there is no dangerous or illegal activity, in case they have done something dangerous._

_\--- Enclosed -----_

**_Process:_ ** _LARS has had more trouble acquiring materials such as tubes, syringes, and incubation tanks; several scientists explained this to me as the cause of the silence. It seems that they invested too much in their work, and are running short on both time and resources. We still have not discovered what, exactly, they plan on “resurrecting,” but it is clear that they are far enough along that it would take extreme measures to get them to give up._

 **_Details:_ ** _There has been little research--so they claimed--yet I was only allowed to see into the laboratories, which included basic materials: tables, chemical mixtures, and the like; except for a skeleton bone, which I found odd. Even odder was the fact that the scientists removed it quickly from view, claiming that it was “ancient work” and not worthy to be observed. I interrogated three scientists and none of them seemed to know anything. My troopers could not find anything either, despite four in-depth searches. This is most unusual. LARS used to be one of the most highly regarded centers of science; it was expected that once they had created the product they had been bragging about, the Empire could put it to use against the Rebellion; but now it seems that that is not the case. The research has failed, there is no weapon for us, and LARS is useless. Not to mention suspicious._

_What is especially strange is that the troopers, during their last search, heard a very peculiar sound in the lower levels, like squeaking they said; but upon inquiry learned nothing. The scientists seemed hostile toward any kind of search, and I had to press for information. All they would say was that their leader had a pet, and since it had escaped before, no one was allowed to see it._

**_Conclusion:_ ** _I do not believe that LARS has as much influence, power, or skill as earlier suspected, due to said lack of resources. They are failing, but that is not the worst; the worst is that they are acting very suspicious, almost nervous. They are up to something, but I cannot guess at what that may be. I do not think it is too serious, just peculiar. A more discreet investigation is requested._

“This is what I thought,” said Piett, shaking his head. “But Gilden was foolish not to think anything more of it. LARS should have been shut down long before the case was passed to me.”

“Well, it seems that the scientists were deliberately keeping information from him.” Veers put a hand on his chin, studying the report. “So why should he have suspected anything?”

“I suppose you’re right. Read on.”

 **_Captain Ramos Gilden, Accuser, Message -_ ** _Sent spies to LARS, located on Felucia. Have yet to hear a report back; investigation is required._

 **_Li’set Firestar, Agent, to Accuser, Message -_ ** _Scientists participate in drills every two weeks concerning the behavior of certain creatures within the facility. They are almost idiotic, for they consist simply of grown people running about herding animals none of us have ever seen; it was impossible to get near. Investigation is worthless, except perhaps to watch the scientists’ every move, should they do something desperate. They certainly seemed frantic._

 **_Captain Ramos Gilden, Accuser, Message -_ ** _It has been nine months since anyone on the Accuser has had thoughts of Felucia and LARS, but several troopers stationed at our base there have disappeared. There are signs of attacks, by whom we were not certain. Considering recent events, we thought it might be the Rebels; but the signs point to the attacks of animals; very large animals, given tracks discovered in the forest. The tracks match those of a recently died out species of dragon; the exact species is not known._

Slowly, Veers looked up at Piett. “I’m sorry, did I read that right? _Dragon?_ ”

“I don’t believe it either.” Piett continued to stare at the screen, shocked beyond belief. “But why didn’t that get passed on to me?”

They continued reading. 

**_Conclusion:_ ** _Investigation should be reopened; request to transfer investigation, as the Accuser is busy with Rebels on Crait. They are more troublesome than previously anticipated._

 **_Captain Aliya Zurnet, Imperator, Update -_ ** _Investigation continues two months following the previous report; the Imperator is formally taking over for Accuser. The scientists have grown agitated; it is our belief that their organization is failing, and they do not wish us to find out. We should not fund them; the Empire is not worth this measly research, which is mostly concerning dead animals._

“Dead animals,” Piett murmured. “Dead.”

“She means extinct,” Veers said. 

“She does indeed.” A terrible suspicion was beginning to come over him, a suspicion of just what LARS had been doing with extinct animals. “Read on.”

 **_Captain Aliya Zurnet, Imperator, Message -_ ** _Investigation has been prolonged; another trooper vanished. Grundy Pandaki, governor and scientist in chief of LARS, has been questioned, and his answers are not forthcoming. Had to exert mild force to make him talk. The operation is going to do something desperate to gain money, and must be shut down immediately._

 **_Captain Aliya Zurnet, Imperator, Report -_ ** _Report detailing a further investigation of LARS, located on Felucia._

_\-----Enclosed-----_

**_Process:_ ** _Four more troopers have been attacked. The Imperator does not have the resources to deal with the problem; several squadrons were taken out in an attack by Rebels; suspected that [L. Skywalker, W. Antilles, et al] knew our location and had planned this attack for weeks. We did not see them coming, and LARS does not take precedence over our own fleet._

“They didn’t know where we were, and it wasn’t planned,” Veers said; naturally, being the military man, he would know the details. There was an undercurrent of anger in his voice. “I heard Lord Vader talking about it to someone; he was beyond furious.”

“And then someone died,” Piett guessed. 

“The reporting officers died,” Veers confirmed. “Vader suspected...no, he didn’t suspect. He _knew_ that Skywalker had guessed the location of the _Imperator’s_ fleet shortly before the attack.”

“Lord Vader does that,” Piett realized. “He will order the _Executor_ to change course suddenly, and then we’ll come out of hyperspace and the Rebels, or at least some of them, will be there.”

“That’s why Skywalker’s so damn dangerous. I hope Vader finds him on Felucia, and takes him back here to be executed. He deserves it.” 

“Maybe.” Piett looked back at the holoscreen. “Let’s get back on track, Max.”

 **_Conclusion:_ ** _If the LARS case is considered important, a better equipped Destroyer should take over control of its investigation. If not, we could use some help keeping the rest of our resources intact before our position is lost._

“Now it’s my report,” Piett said. “I told you all of this already; several troopers died, we heard suspicious sounds in the lower levels, someone found a syringe on the floor, I concluded that they were experimenting on themselves and had gone crazy. But now…” He sighed. “Now I know I should have looked even further into it. Because judging from the first few reports, they actually did invent creatures.” 

“But how?” Veers demanded. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. Maybe Venka’s report will make everything clear.”

 **_Captain Kieron Venka, Executor, Report -_ ** _Report detailing the final investigation into LARS._

 **_Process:_ ** _Investigated the site of the dead troopers first; found no evidence that the attacks were caused by large animals. Some accident with experimentation must have occurred at LARS. The scientists, however, didn’t like me looking into it; they were almost hostile until I threatened them with arrest and formal interrogation; then they complied immediately, but the fact that they required such threats suggests to me that the facility is both too worthless and too dangerous an investment to continue. I could only enter two rooms; they would not show me anything else._

 **_Conclusion:_ ** _This could become a problem if it continues. The Empire should shut down LARS immediately. Seeing as Felucia is in close proximity to several military bases, I suggest that the research be shut down and transformed into a hospital. In this way, the Empire will stand to gain something from this entire situation._

 **_Notes/Warnings:_ ** _No need to report these dealings to Lord Vader. Once LARS is shut down, the situation will resolve itself. Whether or not troopers have suggested that LARS is resurrecting extinct dragons and cloning them or not is irrelevant. It is trivial compared to our dealings with the Rebels._

Together, Piett and Veers looked up from the screen. 

“Extinct dragons,” Veers echoed. “Extinct dragons!”

“Cloned. LARS has resurrected some kind of extinct dragons and cloned them...the bastards.” Piett shook his head. “Of course that was what killed the troopers. How could Venka be such an idiot? Not to report such a thing to Lord Vader?”

Lord Vader. That brought up something else. 

“He’s down there right now,” Piett said slowly. “He’s on Felucia--”

“And completely unaware.” Veers looked Piett in the eye. “Are you thinking the same thing I am?”

Piett nodded grimly. “We need to disobey orders and interfere.” 


	10. An Unconventional Operation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *plays Jurassic Park theme*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the beloved KaelinaLovesLomaris for looking over!

The underground laboratory was huge.

It was impossible, Luke thought as he was led from room to room, hallway to hallway, farther and deeper into the incredible maze that housed real krayt dragons, large and small, some he’d never seen before and some straight out of his childhood memories. But, miraculously, the krayt dragons weren’t the impossible part. No, the impossible part was the fact that within two weeks, the entire staff had somehow been able to evacuate an entire building of lethal creatures who did not belong in the environment, build a gigantic underground facility, and herd said lethal creatures into it without a single one of them escaping. 

That was the first question he asked. 

“I’d wondered if you would ask that,” Pandaki said with a smile. Luke had been suspicious of him at first, but he was simply turning out to be a kind, albeit overly enthusiastic old gentleman. “The answer, like the answers to most confusing questions, is quite simple. From the beginning of our work, we had suspected that either the Empire or the Rebellion would turn us out; what we are doing is unprecedented, to say the least. So we built underground tunnels first, and then this second facility.” He waved his arms around proudly. “All this was finished at least two years ago.”

“Wow.” Luke had no other word for it; no other word for the  _ very real  _ creatures he saw in desert-like environments, engineered to make the creatures perfectly comfortable. The dragons they were passing at the moment were like nothing he had ever seen: smaller than the ones he remembered, a light blue, with several horns behind its head and a red, crescent-like shape above its eye. 

“What’s that?” he asked Pandaki. “I don’t remember seeing that.”

“Ah, of course!” Pandaki stopped, regarding the dragon. “That is what we call the Spitting Krayt. It was a short-lived mutation of the Canyon Krayt; it only lived for about a hundred years before the mutation failed, but we thought that this climate might be more receptive to it.”

Luke frowned. “And what is...this mutation?”

“Do you see that shape above its eyes?”

The red crescent. Luke nodded. 

“That is a specially secreted gland,” Pandaki explained, “that allows it to spit venom when threatened. It does nothing immediately, but eventually paralyzes the limbs, and if left alone, it would probably kill you; especially if it landed somewhere such as the eyes or mouth. Of course, it wouldn’t do that, because this particular dragon would take advantage of the paralysis to devour you from the inside out.”

Luke’s eyes widened. 

“Of course, the gland has a weakness: its use increases the need for water. So in Tatooine’s climate, naturally--”

“It would die out,” Luke finished for him. It was beautiful to look at, but he was secretly glad that this particular strain had died out long before he was born. 

“Exactly. So we provide exactly what it needs. All of these dragons need a hot climate, first and foremost; that's why we brought them here. There were no nearby desert planets, unfortunately...this was the closest we could find. But we've compensated. First we give them the dry heat, the sand, the rocks, lizards to eat...but we have also been introducing water and flora--plants, if you will, similar to what they will find on Felucia." 

" _ On  _ Felucia," Aphra said, echoing exactly what Luke was thinking. "On Felucia? You're releasing them into the wild?" 

"Into the wild!" Pandaki looked horrified. "Of course not! Are you out of your mind?"

"No, I'm asking if you are." 

Pandaki laughed quietly. "She's a piece of work, isn't she?"

"You're telling me," Luke said as Aphra shot him a glare. 

"But to answer your question, Doctor...of course I'm not releasing them into the wild. They'd either die out or take over the Felucian food chain in two weeks. There are children out there...families!"

"Nice to see you're thinking of the children," Luke said. Ruya had crossed his mind. 

"Thinking of them? I'm doing all this  _ for  _ them! And for the poor beasts, of course. What you see, right now, is a laboratory. Cold, unfeeling, protective. When I show them to the public, it will be in an exhibit. Protected, even more so than this, but outside, in the sunlight, in an environment they will have become used to,  _ and  _ an environment in which it will be completely safe for children to look at them, all day long."

"A zoo," Aphra said flatly. "You're talking about a zoo."

Pandaki smiled again, and this time Luke could tell it was forced. "Doctor, I am not  _ thinking  _ of a zoo. I am  _ creating  _ a zoo." 

"What a difference," Aphra said with a smirk. 

Luke was getting tired of her know-it-all attitude. He had as much experience with krayts as she did; more, actually, because out of the two of them he had really seen one. "Aphra, come on. Lighten up, this is his life’s work--" 

"No, no," Pandaki said delicately. "Let her ask all the questions she wants, they aren't harmful. Curiosity is the beginning of knowledge."

Aphra snorted. "You say that as someone who has absolutely no knowledge of what he's dealing with."

Now Pandaki had the good grace to appear insulted. "Do you think I can't pull this off?"

"Oh, it's not that I don't  _ think  _ you can," said Aphra without hesitation. "I know you can't, and I'm positive that you won't."

Pandaki looked slightly taken aback by that. 

"Well," he said at last, "I'll just have to prove you wrong, won't I?"

"You can try," Aphra shot back. 

The last thing Luke wanted was a battle between these two stubborn doctors. He stepped in between them, pushing Aphra behind him. 

"We don't know much about these dragons yet," he said before she could protest. "We can see them just fine...but how, exactly, is this possible? These dragons were  _ dead.  _ They were extinct. And most of them I've never heard of before in my life; most people believed there were only two species."

"Of course, you want to know how this is possible!" Pandaki looked pleasant again; Luke's intercession seemed to have done its work. "How silly of me. Rin!" 

Out of nowhere, the only human they had seen thus far popped out from around a corner. "Yes, Doctor?"

"This is Quan Rin,” Pandaki explained. “He is our resident genetic engineer; he’s an expert on biology and has dabbled in archaeology, and it is under his supervision that the dragons are able to be here in the first place.”

“Really?” Now Luke was more intrigued than ever. He turned to Rin. “How did you do it?”

“I could just tell you,” said Rin with a smile. “But in this case, I think you might have to see it to believe it.” He beckoned them forward. “Follow me.”

  
  


Anxiety.

Captain Kieron Venka had been anxious before. It was a common feeling on the  _ Executor _ ; a constant feeling. When failure meant death, even a slight failure, anxiety became your constant companion. You got used to it. And that’s what he had done. Nervousness, anxiety--they were familiar. They did not affect him. 

But anxiety was not what he was feeling at the moment. 

What he was feeling at the moment was worse than anxiety. It was terror. 

It would have all been forgotten. Everything that had happened, with the laboratory, the rumored deaths--it would all have been left behind, never to be discovered...if  _ only that doctor hadn’t come back from the dead!  _

The planet she was on had just happened to be Felucia. 

And now, Darth Vader was going to find out. He would not go looking for LARS, of course. But he would find it. That was how Vader worked; it was the source of the constant anxiety on the  _ Executor.  _ If there was anything out of order, a file placed wrongly, a death that didn’t match up, he would find it. It did not matter if he was looking for it or not; he  _ would  _ find it, because it was a risk to the order that made up his world. The only things that mattered to Vader were order and efficiency. They had built the Empire; and so they made up one hundred percent of Vader's motivations, naturally. The galaxy, under the Empire’s jurisdiction, was a perfectly smooth, perfectly round, white pearl, and whatever did not fit into its beauty was a black spot, ugly and distorted and immediately noticeable. And Vader, as the Emperor’s enforcer, would notice it before anyone else. 

LARS did not fit into the natural order of things. 

Venka knew something about it that he was not supposed to know. And that led to further knowledge: LARS' operation rebelled against the natural world. Against the order of the world. And, to boot, it was not efficient. The process was too long; it had done little for the Empire; it was of no use. And yet it existed. 

That Vader would find it was a foregone conclusion. 

It didn’t matter what had happened to the lab; it had not been taken care of the way it should have been. Venka realized that now. Not that it was entirely his fault; he’d only been the last to take it on. Piett, for one, had been responsible for the most deaths. But the fact remained that Venka had been in control of the project last, so Venka would be blamed. 

And he knew what would happen then. 

He didn’t know what he was going to do; he’d thought about it, as he ran through the jungle, but as he neared the building that used to be the laboratory--now the hospital--he was still no nearer to a plan. There were thousands of options before him, but no plan. 

He could tell Pandaki the truth: by sheer accident, the Empire would find him. 

He could tell Vader  _ part  _ of the truth: that there was an immediate danger to him and he must leave Felucia immediately. 

Or, the most daring option: he could turn LARS--and all the profits Pandaki had promised him--over to the Empire. That would not only clear him from suspicion, but it could also elevate him to the position of Admiral. It was possible-- _ just  _ possible--that he could throw Piett under the bus. The current Admiral, by sheer bad luck, had the most Stormtrooper deaths attached to his name, at least where the LARS case was concerned. 

Maybe, just maybe, Vader would accuse Piett. And then Venka would be Admiral. 

Maybe that was the best course of action. The idea of being Admiral was too beautiful to ignore. 

Now he just had to find the lab's new location. From his investigation several months earlier, Venka had known that there was something suspicious concerning the lower levels...an underground tunnel, perhaps?

Which meant that, since he was standing in front of the hospital now…

The new laboratory couldn't be far.

With a smile, Venka turned and headed back toward the jungle.

  
  


“What we started with was an idea,” said Rin, leading Luke and Aphra into a room marked  FERTILIZATION. Inside were several long tables, half a dozen freezers, and a large holoscreen at the back, displaying a map of the entire laboratory. “Ten years ago, the last krayt dragon died out. Scientists have confirmed that it was near the palace of one of the Hutt clan.”

“Jabba,” Luke muttered, feeling anger course through him at the mere mention of that cursed Hutt. All those years on Tatooine had been spent in fear of angering him; every time Luke had gone to the market he’d see dejected, worn-down slaves trudging along, faces caked with sand, ribs prominent and limbs shaking, barely alive enough to be human; and now, on top of everything, he probably had Han by now.

“Our Doctor Pandaki here had always had a fascination with krayts,” Rin went on, “and now they were extinct. He wanted a way to bring them back, and it had to be done quickly; by this point it had already been four years. But we had a chance; you see, bodies decompose much more slowly in dry climates, and sometimes they can mummify. It takes three years for the tissue to start to disappear; much longer than humid climates. So we had a small window. We just had one problem.” He smiled. “We couldn’t find the canyon’s skeleton anywhere.”

“The last surviving one,” Aphra said.

Rin nodded. “The one we were all depending on. So we were forced to rethink things. Would it be possible to resurrect dragons without DNA from tissues? Could we do it in another way?”

Aphra rolled her eyes. “I have  _ no  _ idea.”

Luke elbowed her in the ribs; she let out a small yelp. Rin ignored all of it.

“In our research, we found that the two kinds of krayts--canyon and tyrant--were not all that existed within their species. There were not two subspecies; there were four. One of these you’ve already seen, if I’m correct…” He looked to Pandaki for confirmation. 

“Yes,” Pandaki replied. “They came in through the south entrance.”

_ South?  _ Luke thought.  _ That means there’s more than one entrance.  _ But he didn’t think it’d be a good idea to say that out loud. 

“So you saw the Thunder krayt,” Rin said. “It’s our only kind at the moment; that one proved the most difficult to clone. You’ll see why in a minute.” 

“Thunder krayt,” Luke said with a laugh. “That doesn’t seem like a very...accurate name. It looked pretty peaceful.”

“And it is,” Rin said, smiling. “But listen when it takes a step. You can hear that echo a million miles away. That’s how it got its name.” He turned toward the freezers. “This is where we fertilize the eggs. They need specific temperatures to develop correctly; and, in fact, that’s how we resurrected the dragons.” He opened one of the freezers, showing them a large egg; beige, with brown spots. “This is a new one, recently developed.” 

“That’s like the one I saw,” Aphra piped up. The others turned to look at her. 

“You...saw one?” Pandaki echoed. “Do you mean earlier, in this facility somewhere?”

“No. Outside, in the jungle. It was at the foot of some trees--”

“No, no, that’s impossible.” Rin cut her off. 

“Looked exactly like that,” Aphra continued. “Beige...brown spots...only half of it was there. There were trails across the ground, accompanied by several very large tracks--”

“Like I’ve said, that’s impossible,” Rin said. 

“Why?” Aphra demanded. 

“Because this facility is dragon-proof,” he explained calmly. “It is impossible for the dragons to escape; and if they had, we would know. The dragons all have trackers; if they were to escape the facility we would see it. Look there.” He pointed to the holoscreen, which showed fifteen red dots scattered throughout the facility. “This is where we are now. And this…” He picked up a small device and pushed a button. The image on the holoscreen changed to what Luke could tell was a map of Felucia. “This is Felucia. Do you see any red dots there?”

Both Luke and Aphra shook their heads. There were none. 

“So it is completely impossible that any dragons have escaped,” Rin said, sounding very pleased with himself. “What you saw was most likely the egg of a large lizard; Felucia is known to have those. And that gets us to another point,” he went on, not even waiting for Aphra to respond. “Lizards and dragons have almost the same set of DNA; and when I researched them, I found that the Orpali descended almost directly from the Greater krayts. So the answer was simple: I worked backwards. I reconstructed evolution from the point we are now, working step by step with the embryos. I couldn’t do it immediately; it was done within several generations.”

“Okay, pardon me,” Aphra cut in, “but that’s freaking impossible.”

Luke was about to agree; but as he opened his mouth, his own words echoed back in his mind:  _ You want the impossible.  _

He’d said that. 

And several minutes later, Yoda had raised his X-Wing out of the swamp with as little effort as a child kicking a ball. 

_ I don’t believe it,  _ he’d said afterwards. 

Yoda hadn’t been wanting for a response.  _ And that is why you fail.  _

This had been done using science, genetics; but maybe, at the same time, the Force had willed it. 

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve seen a lot of impossible things.”

“Thank you,” said Rin, who looked relieved. “I don’t believe I know you. Doctor Aphra is infamous in our community, but I can’t place you.”

“I’m just a pilot,” Luke said. It was part of the truth, at least. “I come from Tatooine, so I was intrigued.” 

Rin seemed to take that as an explanation. “Excellent. So, to begin with, I looked at the similarities between Orpali lizards and Greater krayts. Both were carnivores. Both were cold-blooded. Both had a very specific array of horns on the back of its head. Both hunted at night. Then came the differences--the big one is that Orpali lizards are five feet long and can be killed with a blaster; Greater krayts were giants, averaging sixteen feet in height, forty feet long. Then there were others. Orpali crawled on the ground; Greater stood up. Orpali had softer flesh on its chest; Greater had chest armor that could even impede ancient lightsabers.

_ Not so ancient,  _ Luke thought, wishing he still had his. 

“I couldn’t change the size issue immediately. So I started with the armor. I could get it to be a biped instead of a quadruped; but that wouldn’t be natural. Out in the wild, a biped lizard without any kind of defenses on its most open area would be killed in days. So we captured two Orpali lizards. Mated them. Kept the lizard for further studying. And then, with a donation of technology from the Empire--we were spying on the Rebels’ Felucian presence, so they didn’t mind--I was able to tinker with the embryo’s DNA strand just enough. I added one mutation: scales on the chest. When it hatched, the scales grew. They weren’t as defensive as I wanted them to be, but they existed. So I amplified them. Within three generations, the chest armor was fully developed. 

“Now I worked to make it a biped. That took a bit more work; you see, whether an animal is bipedal or quadrupedal is controlled by the spine. Animals that are bipedal--for example, all humanoid creatures, like us--have a much more flexible backbone. So what I had to do was separate the spinal cord from the cranium; in other words, the spine needed to leave the head and straighten up. That required five generations; the first one failed, and it took significant work to keep them alive. But by the end of it, we had an upright lizard. 

“Now for the size issue. I had expected it to be difficult, and it was; but what I didn’t understand before doing research was that dragons naturally tend towards larger sizes; given time, they will evolve to be larger. The Canyon krayt is an exception; it evolved to be smaller due to the fact that smugglers were shooting down krayts to sell their horns for profit, and being smaller allowed Canyons to hide in dens and caves.”

As terrifying as krayts were, Luke took a moment to feel horrified about that. 

“But I digress,” Rin went on. “I found that the only way to quickly increase the Greater’s size was to alter the bone density and fat mass of the mother even before conception. I injected a chemical into her thigh; two times it killed the mother, and a third trial finally succeeded. But then, when the egg was fertilized…” Rin smiled. “It was three times larger than the previous one had been.”

“I’d imagine that took a while,” Luke said. 

“Oh, yes! It took fifteen generations, but at last the dragon had increased to the size I wanted it. That was two years ago; it was our very first success. Its DNA was ninety-two percent a match for what the actual, ancient DNA would have been; our droids did the math. Since then we’ve been modifying it, and we’ve gotten it up to ninety-eight percent. At present, I don’t think we can go any farther; the remaining two percent that doesn’t match is a result of the climate at the time, and what Tatooine was like a million years ago. So I don’t think we can change that.

“But after we’d done it for one Greater, we moved on; the next one we recreated was the Canyon. At that point, one skeleton had been found, and from that it was simple to reconstruct the DNA. Then the Thunder came, and finally the Spitting krayt. And then….well, then there was an attempt to invent a new kind of dragon using experimental technology, but…” Rin shook his head. “The creature died within several days of its birth, and that was that. But the success we have is more than enough. As of today, we have five Thunder krayts, four Spitting, four Canyon, and two Greaters.” 

“All that in…” Aphra frowned. “How many years?” 

“Almost six,” Pandaki said. “Isn’t it fantastic?” 

“It’s impossible,” she said flatly. “All those generations of reverse engineering evolution...it can’t be done.”

“Well, of course it can,” Rin said, still smiling calmly. “We just proved it to you. You’ve seen these creatures with your own eyes.”

“Only one,” Aphra said, “and that was so different from any dragon I’ve heard of...it could be made up.” 

“That’s a natural course of thinking,” Pandaki said. “I can understand it, and this brings me to the most exciting portion of this little tour. Would you like to see the other dragons for yourself?”

The thought was beyond exciting for Luke. Sure, krayts had been terrifying once; but then they had all died, and many times throughout his teenage years he had wished he could see one again. Now he was going to have that chance. 

“Sure,” he said. “Why not? It should be fun.”

“Excellent!” Pandaki clapped his hands together. “Right this way.”

  
  


Pandaki led them through several winding corridors, past laboratories and more fertilizing rooms, and finally toward a bolted durasteel door. 

“I am going to ask you to surrender any weapons,” he said. “It isn’t that I don’t trust you; it’s more out of a sense of security. These cages are where the Greater and Canyon krayts are kept, the two you know well; and while the cages are impervious to any kind of external force, I don’t want to take any chances.” 

“No problem.” Luke handed over the blaster he’d taken from the Muun scientist. 

Aphra was a different issue. Not that she didn’t want to hand over her weapons; as an archaeologist, she seemed to understand the security risk as well as anyone. But she didn’t just have a blaster. She had a back-up blaster, and a rope, and a Mandalorian disintegrator, and something for picking locks, and several gadgets that Luke couldn’t put a name to. 

The other three stared at the pile of weapons Aphra had left on the floor. 

“What?” she said. “I come prepared, that’s all.”

“Clearly,” Pandaki said. “You didn’t forget anything, did you?”

“No, I checked every...never mind. Wait a minute.” Aphra reached into her bag, fished around for several minutes, and finally came up with a jagged-edged throwing knife, which she tossed carelessly on the floor. “There we go! Gosh, what are you all staring at?” 

Luke looked up at the ceiling. 

“Let’s go in,” said Pandaki, swiping his key card. 

The bolted doors unlocked and slid open to admit them into a long, dark hallway. One by one, several lights flicked on up ahead, revealing a cage full of creatures that sent Luke instantly back to his childhood. 

Canyon krayt dragons. 

  
  


He had found it. 

It had taken at least an hour of searching, but at last Venka had found the trap-door to the underground laboratory. To the untrained eye, it would look like another piece of the ground; but when you were looking for it, you could see the edges of durasteel that separated the ground from the door. Venka assumed that you stood on it. He stepped forward. 

There was only one way to do this. They would have cameras. 

“Hello,” he said, sounding and feeling like an idiot. “This is Kieron Venka, reporting back. I’ve become aware of an emergency--you’re in danger from the Empire. You need to let me in.”

He fell silent, waiting for the platform to descend. But it stayed still; he stayed above ground. 

Had they not heard him?

“It’s Kieron Venka,” he said again. “Let me in!”

Again, nothing happened. 

It could be the wrong place, he reasoned. It was just an assumption, after all, that they would have moved underground...what if he was wrong?

What if they’d left Felucia entirely? 

Well. If that was the case, then he had nothing to worry about, did he? And yet...all the signs pointed to their being here still. From all reports, Pandaki had been incredibly reluctant to leave; the scientists had not gone anywhere else immediately; the geneticist, or something like that, had been spotted. They had to be here. 

But if he couldn’t find them...then maybe no one else would be able to, either.

A brief smile crossed Venka’s face; he was in the clear. It was disappointing that this wouldn’t lead to his becoming Admiral, but that was nothing compared to the sheer joy of not having to worry about being killed anytime soon. 

Venka squared his shoulders, turned around--and froze. 

Darth Vader was standing directly in front of him. 

How had he not heard the breathing--how had he not seen the shadow? It didn’t matter how; Vader had a surprising way of surprising officers who hadn’t been expecting him. 

It just hadn’t happened to Venka himself. 

Several seconds passed. Venka had the idea that Vader was letting him panic; maybe he enjoyed the fear, enjoyed being able to terrify him. 

“Lord Vader,” Venka choked out at last. 

“I thought I gave the order,” Vader said slowly, menacingly, “that I was  _ not  _ to be interrupted.”

  
  


There were four of them, as Quan Rin had said. It was quite a sight to see. Luke had only ever seen one by itself, and that had been just once. Now there were four, and they appeared much healthier, much  _ stronger,  _ than any he had ever seen. 

He had expected that they would go wild upon seeing him; throw themselves against the fence, barbed wire though it may have been, howl and shriek and scream themselves into hoarseness because they couldn’t have the food that they wanted. 

Except they didn’t do any of that. They simply prowled slowly throughout the gigantic cage, powerful, muscled limbs taking them step by step across the space allowed them. One of them looked straight at Luke, its green, slit-eyed stare never once looking away. Luke shivered, but he didn’t seem able to look away, either. He and the dragon were locked in an intense stare. 

Then something moved. 

But not from the dragon who’d been looking at him; from two of the others, from the left and right. The charging dragons covered the small space in a matter of seconds, leaping at the fence; Luke gasped as he saw, at maximum speed, a blur of green and brown and bunching limbs and open jaws--

With a sharp hiss, electricity sparked. The dragons fell back to the ground, snarling and whimpering, before getting up again. 

And still the one dragon had not taken its eyes from Luke. 

“Holy shit,” Aphra said beside him. 

Luke still couldn’t quite speak. It had been so  _ fast.  _ He’d been so focused on the one that he’d never seen the other two coming. 

He supposed that had been the point. 

“This, as far as we know, is how they hunted,” Rin explained. “This is why, once they began to die out, they died out quickly; once they could no longer fight in packs, they could not survive. Canyon krayts are smart creatures, brilliant; and they use that brilliance to help them coordinate attacks. If you noticed, they use distraction techniques to pull your focus away; the attack comes not from the front, but from the sides.”

“Oh, we noticed,” Luke said. 

“They do this periodically...test the fence, for weaknesses.” Rin shook his head. “Always got to keep an eye on them. They want nothing better than to escape.”

Aphra’s brow furrowed.  _ Uh-oh,  _ Luke thought. 

“Of course they do,” she said. “Animals like these are bred to hunt and kill. My question is...why create a zoo at all? The whole time, all they’ll want to do is get out. And trust me.” She smiled unpleasantly. “At some point, they’ll get out.”

“I don’t think so,” Rin said. “Again, I understand where you’re coming from, but this is something we have completely under our control.”

“That egg says you don’t,” she said. “Which I absolutely saw, by the way. So where did it come from?” She smirked. “My intuition tells me it escaped. Maybe, uh...the second of the two Greater krayts you’re going to show us? The first is clearly at the end of that hall. But I can tell the size of that cage. Two dragons couldn’t fit in there.”

“It’s in here, Doctor.” Somehow Rin was staying completely calm through all of this. “Don’t worry. There’s an entire second room behind this.”

“Once again…” Aphra shrugged. “I have to see it.”

“And you will,” Rin promised her. “Just--”

Mercifully, Pandaki’s comlink beeped, cutting off the discussion. The doctor held up a hand. “Pardon me a moment.”

“Doctor, there’s some sort of disturbance above the south entrance,” came one voice from the other end. “Permission to investigate?”

“Permission granted,” Pandaki replied. “I don’t want any more visitors for today. You’ll have to tell them we’re some sort of low-level facility.”

“Yes, sir.” With a click, the scientist hung up.

Luke frowned. “What was that about?”

“Oh, you know people.” Pandaki laughed. “Some of them are too intelligent for their own good; they figure out there’s a trap-door and they want to know where it leads. We can’t draw attention to this place, so I have to send someone out there to explain it away as something boring. People aren’t curious if they think all we’re doing in here is mind-numbing research.”

“So that’s how you kept the Empire off your premises all this time,” Luke realized aloud. “You didn’t want them getting involved, because this is risky; so all you told them was that you were doing research, when really you were succeeding one trial after another!”

A strange expression passed over Pandaki’s face. “How did you know the Empire was trying to get involved?”

Luke’s stomach dropped. Why couldn’t he just shut up? The only way for him to know that would have been to read Mothma’s intercepted report, or else to be part of the Empire itself…

“Uh…” He searched for an explanation. “I--I just heard something about the Empire coming here, I figured they were looking into it.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Pandaki said, but his eyes narrowed. He hadn’t bought it; either he suspected that Luke was part of the Rebellion or the Empire, neither of which was good, since LARS seemed to have no love for either of them--

“No! No, stop, you can’t--HELP!”

The screamed protest echoed dimly through the bolted doors, but they heard every word of it. Instantly, all four turned around, toward the source. More shouts followed, but so far, not even Luke could tell what was going on. 

Rin moved quickly. He turned, marching toward the doors, and beckoning to the others. “Quick! Quick! We have to get out, the dragons can’t be at risk!” 

This time there was no protesting. The other three followed. 

Once they were outside, Aphra immediately began returning her weapons to their proper places; Luke picked up his blaster and began walking away from the others. There was something awful, the Force was whispering, people were dying; he didn’t know what it was, but he had the Force. Maybe he could help them. He walked more quickly, almost at a run, rounding the corner--

“No--no! STOP!”

The hum of a lightsaber, and the shouts were cut off. 

Luke stopped, frozen in terror. Vader was here. Somehow, Vader had gotten inside the facility, inside the lab, and now he was coming after him, and they were underground and there was nowhere to go--

“No,” he whispered, feeling himself begin to shake. “No!” 

He turned and ran back the other way, shouting. “Go! GO!”

Aphra finally had all of her weapons packed up. She looked up; Pandaki appeared genuinely alarmed. 

“Darth Vader’s here,” he said. “He’s here for me, and you all have to get out of here right now!”

Aphra didn’t waste a moment. As soon as the words were out of Luke’s mouth, she was up and running in the opposite direction. He doubted she knew where she was going, but he could certainly recognize that animalistic need to get away. 

Rin, too, took a moment to look terrified out of his mind before running after Aphra. 

It was only Pandaki who stayed. 

“What do you mean?” he demanded. “Darth Vader? Why?”

“I can’t explain it,” Luke said, desperate for Pandaki to survive, for just  _ one person  _ not to die on his behalf. “Just go! Keep the dragons safe!”

“Al...all right,” he said. The lightsaber hummed again, louder; closer. 

“GO!” Luke shouted, infusing his voice with the Force. 

Without a word, Pandaki turned and sprinted in the other direction. 

Now Luke was alone. And now he had a choice to make. 

Vader was here, for him. 

And he was killing every single scientist along the way. Scientists who meant  _ nothing  _ to Luke. Scientists who had threatened him at first, who had been ready to kill him and Aphra, who--

Who were people, and who were innocent, and who were being murdered. 

That was all that mattered. 

And Luke realized then that it didn’t matter what Vader did to him. Well, it did; he was terrified of being forced to turn, to be forced to kill people, of having his thoughts stolen from him, being locked up in a cell and deprived of sleep and psychologically tormented. It did matter--but not if it came at the loss of innocent lives. And just like that, his decision was made. 

He could not let innocent people die. 

No matter what that meant for him. 

Even as he heard the lightsaber hum and kill again, even as another scientist screamed, Luke broke into a run, going towards the sound, running faster than he had ever run before. 

_ I have to be insane,  _ he thought.  _ I’m running toward Darth Vader. I’ve got to be crazy-- _

But he kept running. He turned a corner, almost tripped on some kind of liquid, and kept going, one hand to his blaster, his heart pounding, wishing more than anything he could turn back--

“You can’t do this!”

The lightsaber hummed again. Luke ran faster. 

“Stop!”

_ Just please,  _ Luke begged to the Force.  _ Let me save someone, let one person be alive-- _

There were four. 

There were four scientists, he counted as he threw open whatever doors were blocking his way and stopped in one of the fertilization rooms. Three were hiding behind the tables; Vader was in the process of killing the other, bringing his lightsaber down even as the scientist begged him not to--

“STOP!”

Silence. 

Luke’s shout had the effect he wanted: Vader froze, slowly lowering his lightsaber to his side. The scientist seemed to realize that this was his only chance at life and fled, sprinting past Luke and out into the laboratory. 

“Stop,” Luke said again, the words sounding choked as they escaped him; he could barely breathe; his lungs had suddenly grown tight and he hoped that wasn’t Vader’s doing. “Please. Do whatever you’re going to do to me, but let them go. They didn’t do anything.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Please.”

Vader extinguished the lightsaber. 

Luke swallowed. 

“That is the influence of the Jedi,” Vader spat at last. “They were not strong enough to defend themselves against me. They are cowards. Their lives are worth nothing. You will learn that eventually.” 

“I  _ won’t, _ ” Luke started, but Vader ignored him. He approached Luke swiftly, crossing the room in a matter of seconds. Luke’s instincts screamed at him to run away--but then logic kicked back in. He had to stay. He had to keep the scientists alive. So, muscles trembling, he stood his ground as Vader stopped, looming over him. 

“You  _ will.  _ But for now…” Vader seized Luke’s wrist in a vice-like grip--his right wrist, his right hand, exactly the spot where the lightsaber had sliced through his organic one--and Luke had to focus all his strength on not panicking right then and there. “You are  _ coming  _ with me.” 

“Don’t--don’t touch me,” Luke protested feebly, but it was about as effective as throwing a pinecone at a rancor. 

It was a battle in his mind as Luke was dragged forward, his terror fighting against his desire not to see anyone else killed. The latter won out--but barely. Vader had him now, and who knew what was going to happen to him? 

The pace was brutal. Clearly Vader was furious that Luke had escaped him this many times, and he would stop at nothing to get Luke onto the shuttle or transport or whatever was going to bring them back to the  _ Executor,  _ and Luke was forced to half jog to keep up. He could have resisted--maybe he  _ should  _ have. He had a blaster, after all. But he felt too numb, too resigned to even struggle. He had no options yet, he was going to be brought back to fight the battle of his life--

“Stop!” 

As they--or rather, Vader with Luke in tow--marched through the laboratory, Doctor Pandaki had appeared in front of them. Vader stopped in his tracks, and Luke had to stop just as suddenly to avoid bumping into him. 

“Move,” Vader ordered, “or I will make you.” 

“No--no!” Pandaki protested. “This is an emergency--the dragons--someone--”

“ _ Move!”  _ Vader raised a fist--

“Please...please, listen to him,” Luke said; it was the first he’d managed to speak since Vader had dragged him off. 

“Quiet,” Vader said without so much as a glance at him. 

Luke tried to think of something to say to stop his-- _ shut the hell up _ \--to stop Vader from killing Pandaki, and he wondered….there was a chance, just a chance, that Vader--just like Luke--had experience with Tatooine. 

“He’s resurrected krayt dragons,” Luke blurted out. 

That did it. 

Vader spun around, his hand tightening almost painfully around Luke’s wrist.  _ “What?” _

“He--” It was extremely, extremely uncomfortable to have that singular focus directed at him, and even worse to have that iron grip clenched around his  _ prosthetic hand,  _ but Luke pressed on. “He’s resurrected krayt dragons, and...Pandaki, what’s wrong?”

“Five of our eggs are--are missing.” Pandaki stuttered, as Vader wheeled back to face the doctor. “It’s very recent; I found it as soon as I--” He looked up at Vader and swallowed. “When I ran--I went to one of the other fertilization rooms--five eggs were missing.”

“And why,” Vader demanded, “is that a problem?”

“Each freezer is labeled in terms of the eggs’ age.” Pandaki closed his eyes briefly. “These are several days from hatching. If they are out of the freezers when they hatch…”

“They could escape into the wild,” Luke finished for him. “And then--”

“And then either they die,” Pandaki said, “or everyone else does.” 

“What kind of krayt were they?” 

Vader’s question was unexpected, and  _ loud-- _ both Luke and Pandaki flinched. Despite the situation, Luke’s panic was really beginning to catch up with him; this was the closest he’d ever been to Darth Vader, and his wrist was burning, and he kept hearing the howling winds of Bespin in his mind, and that overbearing presence was suffocating and he  _ really just wanted Vader to let him go.  _

“Er, er--” Pandaki seemed to be having a hard time finding words. It was one of the carnivores, Luke realized. 

“ANSWER ME!”

Luke flinched again. 

“They’re--they’re--they--” Pandaki stuttered. “They’re Greater krayt eggs!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, half of what I wrote about the genetic process is from actual research/the Jurassic Park novel/movie, and the other half I made up. I'm passionate about biology/genetics don't claim to be any kind of expert in that area, so if I get anything wrong, please feel free to tell me in the comments!


	11. Eggs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which people start making Mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again to the phenomenal KaelinaLovesLomaris for reading this over!

Greater krayt eggs. There was silence for a few seconds, then Luke spoke.

“Who was it?” He frowned. “And how did you  _ know? _ I told you to run!”

“I…” Pandaki sighed. “Where was I supposed to run to? If you were going to find--” He blanched, seeming to realize that they were talking about Darth Vader in front of Darth Vader. “Find  _ him,  _ I thought that he would be distracted...and I would never have left my laboratory! I ran into one of the fertilization rooms to hide--I looked at the eggs, I needed something to do--and that’s when I knew.”

Luke sighed. “You’re either incredibly brave or the most foolish person I’ve ever met. Do you know who took the eggs?”

“No!” Pandaki was clearly panicked; his eyes were wide, and he was shaking. “The person was gone! But one of my technicians checked the security cameras outside. Whoever took them is still inside the facility.”

“Then we have no time to waste,” Luke said. “Come on!”

He ran forward, only to be yanked back by the hold on his wrist; abruptly, he remembered that Vader had him, and seemed dead set on dragging him back to the  _ Executor.  _

“Let me go,” Luke protested, trying to yank himself away, even pulling on the Force to try and escape, but none of it worked. Letting go of his wrist, Vader seized both of Luke’s shoulders and pulled him around to face him. 

“You will not be going anywhere,” the Dark Lord rumbled, the insect-like mask seeming cold and black as a storm cloud, “except back to my Star Destroyer.” Keeping his hands on Luke’s shoulders, he turned him around to face Pandaki again. “Doctor--whoever you are--do you know who this is?”

“Whoever I am?” Pandaki repeated. “Do you know who  _ I  _ am?”

“No, and at present I do not care.” The hands were like iron clamps on Luke’s shoulders, and Vader was behind him, and after years of experience thinking of the man as his enemy he wished Vader would come around in front of him. Or let him go altogether, where he could run and find his X-Wing and get away. “But do you know who  _ this is? _ ”

Pandaki shook his head vigorously. “No. He’s some kind of pilot.”

There was an odd noise from Vader; something like a snort. “Yes, he is most certainly a pilot. You might say that. In fact, he is the most  _ infamous  _ pilot in the history of pilots. He--”

Suddenly Luke realized what Vader was doing. Already, not even begun his work on him, he was alienating him from people he knew, making everyone see him as an enemy. In a moment, Pandaki wouldn’t trust him any more; he’d cut off the conversation--which at present was the only thing keeping Luke from an Imperial cell--and run, which was exactly what Vader wanted. He wanted Luke to be loyal to no one but him, wasn’t that right?

“No,” he said desperately, trying to turn around to address Vader. “No, shut up!”

Vader’s hands tightened almost to the point of pain. “He is Luke Skywalker.”

The change was instant. Pandaki’s eyes widened immediately, and he took a step back. He recognized Luke, all right. 

“Why?” he demanded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because, well…” It was almost impossible to think with that giant of a Sith Lord behind him, the rhythmic breathing only a foot from his ear. “You said you didn’t really approve of Rebels or Imperials. I wanted to establish some trust.”

Pandaki exhaled. “Oh. Well, then, we still need your help to--”

“Enough of this,” Vader snapped. “You know who he is. You know what I am doing here, and why I want him in my grasp. Now--”

He removed one hand from Luke’s shoulder and raised a fist. 

Pandaki’s eyes went wide as he was lifted several feet off the ground, clutching at his throat. Horrified, Luke realized what Vader was doing; Pandaki had outlived his usefulness. 

But Vader had made one mistake: he had opened up the possibility of escape.

With one arm free, and the other only under a loose grasp, Luke kicked at Vader with all his strength. His boot connected with solid durasteel, enough to hurt, but it also distracted Vader. Pandaki dropped with a gasp, and Luke sprinted off down the corridor. 

But he didn’t get far. As he reached the end of the hallway, that now familiar iron grip seized around his wrist--again--and yanked him back. 

"Do  _ not  _ seek to attempt such foolishness again,” Vader thundered, the booming voice seeming like some unholy combination of a prophet’s decree and a beast's roar. "You cannot escape me. If you do, if you attempt to get away once more, I will kill everyone in my path until I reach you."

"They wouldn't--they wouldn't deserve it!" Luke expected such an attitude from Vader; it was all that he had come to expect. That didn't mean that he wasn't absolutely horrified to hear the words spoken. 

"Whether they do or not does not matter." Vader's voice softened just a touch, growing unexpectedly...soft? Gentle? Both were improbable. "I have torn the galaxy apart searching for you. You belong with me. Accept it." 

Luke pulled back, wrenching himself out of Vader's grasp. "Never." 

They were interrupted by the sounds of Pandaki’s groaning as he dragged himself to his feet. Luke looked sideways at him, wondering what he would do, watching the doctor cough and blink and focus on them. 

“So,” Pandaki said, as if he had not just been almost killed. “The eggs?”

“No.” Vader spoke before Luke could even open his mouth. “We are  _ leaving. _ ” He seized Luke’s arm--the upper arm, this time, thankfully not his wrist--and pulled him forward despite his best efforts. “If you even attempt to follow us,  _ doctor, _ be warned that this time you certainly  _ will  _ die.”

But before Vader could pull Luke another step, there was the sound of running footsteps in the distance; skidding on the floor, gasps for breath, and then Aphra rounded the corner, Rin right behind her. 

Upon seeing Vader, Aphra pulled up short, staring up at the Sith Lord. 

“Uh...nothing to see here,” she said quickly, and without a second’s hesitation, turned around and ran back the other way.

She made it about three steps before Vader raised a fist in the air and  _ clenched.  _ As Luke watched, stunned, she was dragged back. He hadn’t known Vader could do  _ that.  _ Although, he supposed, if Yoda could raise an X-Wing, anyone strong with the Force could drag a person back to face them. Then, that begged the question, why hadn’t he done it before with Luke? For example, on Bespin? 

“At long last, the reason I was even on Felucia to begin with,” Vader said softly. Aphra’s face was the picture of horror. “Doctor Aphra. So you are not dead.”

“Uh, uh, no,” Aphra said after swallowing several times. “I guess I…” She sighed. “I didn’t really die by the senna plant.”

Dead silence. 

That was by far the most confusing thing Luke had ever heard come out of Aphra’s mouth. Was she trying to distract Vader? Crack a joke? He had no idea. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to be the only one confused by her statement; both Rin and Pandaki wore frowns. Luke couldn’t sense anything of Vader’s emotions--if he had any--but the way the mask was angled down sharply, the Sith Lord was probably just as confused as the rest of them. 

“Senna plant,” Vader ground out at last. “What do you mean?”

“Didn’t…” Now it was Aphra’s turn to look confused. “Didn’t someone tell you I’d been killed by the senna plant?”

“No.” Vader jabbed a finger in Aphra’s face. “Do not try to fool me. This is a  _ distraction  _ technique, and you are merely stalling--”

“No, that’s not it,  _ dammit! _ ” Aphra threw her hands in the air with a frustrated groan. “Okay, this is so stupid. I go to all that effort, run deep into the jungle, pour Magus oil all over myself, send my assistant screaming across the planet to search for you, and the asshole doesn’t even show up!” Aphra rolled her eyes. “All that for nothing. What an idiot.”

Once again, her words seemed to stun Vader into silence. She was doing a far better job of distracting him than Luke ever had. 

“In...any case,” he said at last, “the truth is still the same. You are here. You are not dead. And you fear that I will kill you. That is a wise fear to have.” There was a moment of silence; maybe he was thinking of what to say next. “I will give you one last opportunity, Doctor, to get away from me.”

_ Wish I could get an offer like that,  _ Luke thought, but with the black-gloved hand encircling his arm that tightly, he doubted he stood a chance.

“Those two scientists wish Skywalker to stay here and help them search for some... _ krayt dragon  _ eggs.” It sounded as if Vader himself was having a hard time believing it. “I am taking him back to the  _ Executor.  _ Stop them from following us, and flee immediately. If I ever see you again, you will be dead  _ on sight. _ Do that, and you may live. Do you understand?”

Aphra nodded slowly, her gaze wandering from Vader, to Luke, and back to Vader. All Luke could do was stand there. Vader seemed to have figured out very quickly that all he had to do to get Luke to come with him was threaten to kill someone else. Luke would very much have liked Aphra to suddenly realize that she cared about him and refuse Vader’s offer, but doing so would have gotten her killed. And he couldn’t handle the thought of that. Annoying as she was, he genuinely liked her. 

“Okay,” she said, turning to Pandaki and Rin. “Don’t follow them.”

“But Skywalker had promised to help find the missing eggs,” Pandaki said. “It is urgent! They could hatch, and then we would have two young Greaters on the loose--”

“And I’ll help you find them,” Aphra said. “I don’t want that either.”

“Come,” Vader said, pulling Luke forward. “We have wasted enough time.” With his other hand, he pulled out a comlink. “Captain!”

“Yes, Lord Vader,” responded a voice from the other end; a Stormtrooper, Luke guessed. 

“Ensure that the shuttle is ready and meet me outside the west entrance to the jungle,” Vader said. “I have what I came for.”

  
  


“Okay,” Aphra said when Luke and Darth Vader were gone. For some reason, she felt  _ wrong,  _ like she’d done something she wasn’t supposed to, and she was trying to shake it off. “Okay. So, stolen eggs, Pandaki? What? What is going on?”

“No time to explain,” Pandaki said sharply, “we need to find them!” 

“Yes, but we can’t find them if we don’t know who the hell did it in the first place. Did you see him? Did--”

“ _ No, _ ” Pandaki said emphatically. “They were just gone!”

Clearly he was upset. Aphra made an effort to speak more slowly. 

“Okay. Okay. Calm down, it’s okay. Is the culprit still in the facility?”

“As far as I know, yes,” Pandaki replied, “though I have no idea where they are.”

“Cameras,” Rin said. “We have a control room set up. The cameras don’t cover the entire facility, but it gives us a chance.”

“Yes,” Pandaki seemed to realize out loud. “Yes, that makes sense. That might work. Follow me!”

  
  


The culprit, of course, was none other than Kieron Venka. When Darth Vader had appeared behind him, he’d known for sure that he was a dead man; but before Vader even had a chance to start choking him, the trap door had opened up beneath them and they’d gotten pulled into the facility. The ride, fortunately, was short; and then they had arrived in a large room full of scientists, lab equipment, and the most mysterious object of all: a gigantic cage covered with a cloth. 

Vader, naturally, had begun by interrogating the scientists on whether or not Luke Skywalker had come through there; they didn’t know that they’d seen any Rebels, but did know that a blond-haired youth with mystical powers had been there and was currently somewhere in the facility. 

That did it. Venka had never seen Lord Vader react so suddenly or so ferociously to anything in his life; seemingly without a reason, unprovoked, Vader had ignited the lightsaber Venka had only heard of from other terrified officers and began working his way through the scientists. 

That was his opportunity. Venka was forgotten, so he ran. 

He could still find a way to throw the scientists under the bus, still find a way to out them and escape with his life, but it would require more drastic measures.

Maybe, if he stole some kind of evidence that LARS was manufacturing some kind of illegal creatures--he still didn’t know what kind specifically--he would be spared, and the entire facility, and possibly Firmus Piett, would go down. 

It was sheer luck that he’d stumbled into a fertilization room. 

But after seeing the eggs, he had all the proof he needed. He’d done the deed carefully, too; placing the eggs each in their own separate bag, then in a box that he could carry with one hand. 

Now he just had to find a way out of the lab. 

The first few minutes had been difficult. The laboratory was like a maze, and he wondered if it had been designed that way intentionally...maybe so the creatures couldn’t get out? Depending how dangerous they were, they couldn’t bite through solid durasteel; and they couldn’t break out through the earth unless they were really,  _ really  _ huge. 

There were no creatures like that anywhere on Felucia. 

But after wandering for about ten minutes, Venka realized that the seemingly endless hallways and corridors did, in fact, have a pattern to them. The key wasn’t in the number of left and right turns, but the markings on the doors. There were a number of fertilization rooms, more than the number of offices or control rooms or even hatcheries. There were three in one hallway, and six in the next, and then back to four; in terms of walking in order, the number must be going up by one. Three fertilization rooms, then the turn he’d taken just the third time, then the one with five doors, and six, and seven; and then this part of the laboratory looked significantly different than the rest. 

The floor wasn’t white any longer, but gray; so were the walls, and the facility here looked dirtier, more grimy. Older. There were no more fertilization doors. Instead there was a set of durasteel doors, locked, bolted and appearing as if it would take an entire fleet to break through them.

Curious, Venka took a step closer. He’d never seen this kind of security before. He wondered what--

From behind the doors there came a squeal. 

Venka stepped back quickly. The creatures must be behind there. 

More slowly, Venka pressed on. At this point there was no way to tell where he was going, so he took a wild guess and turned right. This corridor was shorter, and it led nowhere. There was dirt on the floor. 

One thing was clear: this was as far as they’d built. 

Venka turned back the other way, walking past the corridor that housed the creatures and toward the other wall. This one looked exactly the same, except for a ladder and--

Venka looked up. 

That was a door above him. 

The other way out! 

Excited, holding the egg box in one hand, Venka reached for the first rung and climbed up, at least sixty feet it must have been, one rung after another, until he had reached the top. Eagerly, he pulled on the door, and--

Nothing. Frustrated, Venka pulled again. Then he pushed, shoved with all his strength. But the door still didn’t budge. 

Desperate, he searched all over for some kind of rim, a slot for a key card, a way he could open it, something. 

And then he found it. A lock. 

There were some words next to it. Venka bent closer. 

OPENS WITH SPECIAL CARD, RECEIVE FROM DOCTOR. IN EMERGENCIES, SHUT DOWN THE POWER. 

Venka smiled. There was still a way out. 

All he had to do was find a way to shut off the power. 

  
  


This underground facility was the most confusing place Aphra had ever seen in her life, but Pandaki seemed to know where he was going. He led them quickly through several twisting hallways and corridors, taking only a second at most to determine where he was going. Aphra and Rin simply followed. 

“Don’t you know the layout just as well?” she asked him. “Seems a little weird that you wouldn’t have any idea.”

“Doctor Aphra,” Rin replied, “I am simultaneously a geneticist, a bioengineering expert, and an archaeology expert. Ever since we built the underground facility I have lived and breathed and eaten and slept in the DNA testing laboratories, making occasional trips to fertilization rooms and hatcheries. Knowing the entire layout is Pandaki’s job.”

“But…” Something about that was strange. “But the Empire just threw you out a month ago, or something like that.”

Rin smiled a thin, knowing smile, and Aphra was suddenly worried. 

“Doctor Aphra,” he said, “might I tell you a secret?”

“Rin, if that’s what I think you’re going to say, don’t,” said Pandaki ahead of them.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Aphra promised. That kind of a tease was not something she wanted just thrown out the window. “Especially not the Empire, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m one of your kind, Pandaki. You can trust me.” 

Pandaki sighed. “All right, Rin. Tell her.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Rin cleared his throat, and Aphra turned back to him. “You say the Empire threw us out a month ago? Yes?”

“Yes,” she said. “Get to the point, buddy.”

Rin’s smile grew. “We tricked them into it.”

Aphra’s eyes blew wide. “Come again?”

“Like I said. We tricked them. They investigated us for months; there’s an entire report somewhere about it, that the Rebellion and Empire probably have different versions of. That was on purpose. All of it was on purpose.” 

“I need to sit down,” Aphra said. 

“Oh, stop being so dramatic, Rin,” Pandaki said, slowing down just a little so that he could talk to Aphra. “Yes, we tricked the Empire into it. They would never have embraced our idea! So we had to make them think that we weren’t doing anything. We tunneled out this entire system years in advance, moved most of the equipment out; that was why they weren’t allowed to see anything. It would have ruined our entire plan, outed the fact that we were already moving out. Finally they evicted us for certain, and then we moved everything else down here.”

“It was brilliant,” Rin said. “And it was all Pandaki’s idea.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You helped.” They reached the end of one of the hallways; Pandaki glanced quickly left before turning right. “But that is why it’s so important that we find these eggs! If two Greater krayts hatch somewhere, even in here, that risks a chance of them getting out. And if they get out…” He shook his head. “We are done.”

“We’ll get them back,” Aphra said. “Trust me.” 

“Yes, yes, enough of your--ah!” The door to their left was marked  CONTROL.  “Here we are.” 

Pandaki drew a key card, slid it through, and the door opened. 

“All right,” he said. “Time to find our missing thief.”

  
  


Vader was silent for the first few minutes, and it would have made Luke uncomfortable except that there was so much else going on. There was a painful hold on his upper arm, he was being dragged along at a brutally fast pace, there was the whole thing about krayt dragons being real and two of their eggs missing, and his brain was a mess of swirling, panicked thoughts, a constant struggle to not think about what would happen when they got back to the  _ Executor.  _ A struggle not to think about Bespin, about the fact that Vader had him. A struggle not to think about--

_ No.  _ **_I_ ** _ am your father.  _

Luke felt sweat trickle down his back. 

It’s not true, it’s not true, Luke told himself, as he’d been telling himself repeatedly for almost an entire month...but there was something, deep inside him, that whispered back. 

_ It  _ is  _ true, it  _ is  _ true,  _ the something was saying, and Luke wanted to deny that he was even hearing it; except then he would be denying that he’d heard it above Yavin 4 a millisecond before he destroyed the Death Star. 

The something was the Force. And the Force didn’t lie. 

But how? How could Vader be--how could Vader be his father? How could Vader be Anakin Skywalker, a man who, apparently, had been the greatest Jedi of the Republic, the Hero Without Fear? The man who had been a great pilot and a greater friend? 

If it was true, and Anakin had been evil, then who was his mother? How had--

Luke squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to think about it. 

“I see that you have not yet accepted the truth.” 

Luke’s eyes flew open, and at the same time, his shields went up. He hadn’t been shielding properly, he knew that immediately; how much of that had Vader heard? 

He didn’t answer. He wasn’t going to give Vader that kind of satisfaction. 

“Why?” came the harsh demand, only seconds later. “The Force must be telling you that it is true. Why have you not accepted it?”

Luke stayed silent. Being petty like that to Vader gave him a sort of satisfaction.

It didn’t last long; the hold on his arm tightened painfully, and he let out a yelp. 

“When I ask you a question,” Vader said, “you answer me. Why is--”

“Because,” Luke cut him off, “it’s impossible.” 

“And just why is it so impossible?”

These questions were unrelenting. Luke raised his head to glare at Vader. 

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” he demanded. “It’s bad enough that you’ve got me and you’re taking me back to the  _ Executor  _ to be put in a cell, you have to--”

“You will not be put in a cell.” 

The statement was absurd; clearly a tactic to put him more at ease, lull him into a false sense of security. 

“Yeah. Sure,” he said with a bitter laugh. “I’m Luke Skywalker, the galaxy’s most wanted, destroyer of the Death Star, now a captive of the Empire; and I am definitely  _ not  _ going to be put in a high security cell. Nope, not at all.” 

“You doubt my intentions,” Vader said. The vocoder made his words sound flat; there was no way for Luke to tell what the man, or...whatever he was, was thinking. One reach into the Force told Luke that there was no reading his emotions either; Vader’s thoughts were behind a blank wall, impenetrable. Luke found himself wishing he could shield like that.

“You can,” Vader said, leaving their previous conversation behind. “All it takes is practice and focus.” 

Luke tensed. “Stop reading my mind!”

“Then stop projecting your emotions so clearly.”

Vader never seemed to lack for an answer, did he? 

Luke couldn’t say the same for himself.

“I can’t...help it,” he said at last. “I have a lot of strong emotions, I don’t know what to tell you.” 

“You can help it. You have simply been taught differently. I--”

“I am  _ not  _ letting  _ you  _ teach me,” Luke snapped. 

“Then your time on the  _ Executor  _ will be...difficult.”

Luke froze, and it took Vader yanking his arm twice to get him to move again. This was  _ exactly  _ what he’d been afraid of,  _ exactly  _ why he’d been trying to get  _ away  _ from Vader and--

“Relax, my son,” Vader said softly. 

Amazing, how it only took two words for Luke’s anger to come rushing back in full force. 

“Don’t call me that!” he snapped. “You’re not--I’m not--”

“You have fought this for so long.” Luke recognized this part of the laboratory; they’d come through here. They were almost to the south entrance. “Relax. Accept the impossible. It will make everything easier for you.” 

What it sounded like, from that statement, was that Vader...wanted things to be easier for Luke. He  _ wanted  _ Luke to be able to relax, to stop fighting, to be at peace, and Luke couldn’t deny that that was a very...parental desire. 

Except that Vader was not his father. He was a Sith Lord, and real fathers didn’t force their children into things, didn’t terrify them, didn’t read their minds or torture their friends or manipulate them at every turn--

“I’ll never give in,” he snarled, looking up at Vader again. The sight of that black mask, so like the bones of a skeleton, was undeniably terrifying; but he wanted Vader to  _ see  _ the anger, the deep-seated hate Luke held for him. “You’ll have to kill me first.” 

The atmosphere grew suddenly cold, darkness pressing in around Luke. 

“That is  _ not  _ an option,” Vader growled. “You  _ will  _ turn. It is the only way.” 

Lights began to flicker all around them. Luke froze. 

“Do you understand? It is the  _ only _ \--”

“Stop!” Luke looked around. “Something’s happening.” 

  
  


Now that Venka could guess at the layout of the laboratory, it had been almost hilariously easy to find the engineering system. It was on a door labeled,  ENGINEERING.  Laughably easy. He had tried the door; then, pulling a blaster he’d taken with him just in case, he’d shot the lock on the door and slipped inside. 

Before him was an entire array of wires and buttons, and a computer system that was apparently rigging up the entire thing. 

Fortunately, before he had been a Captain, he’d been a lieutenant, before that, a superior officer, before that, an officer. 

Before that, a technical officer. 

He’d worked in Engineering on several Star Destroyers in his early twenties, and had come away with knowledge none of Vader’s other high-ranking employees could boast. Not even Piett. 

This system was more complicated than most. But not more complicated than anything that existed on any Star Destroyer. 

Turning on the computer took several minutes; that was expected. Naturally, it would hold a lot of data. But Venka couldn't help feeling nervous. 

Finally the computer was up, and now he could get to work. 

Venka sat down and began working away at it, figuring out the system. Getting into the diagnostics, surprisingly, didn't require a password; and from there Venka learned that the power could be shut down all across the facility, or simply in different areas. For this purpose, he decided to shut it down simply in the areas he would require access through. He had no idea what kind of creatures LARS was manufacturing, but a secret organization hinted that the creatures were dangerous. No use freeing them; they might get in his way, keep him from escaping. 

Getting into the system itself was tricky. Several times it tried to block him from getting in, but fortunately, he happened to know binary, and on the keypad was able to enter enough to convince the system to let him in. 

Now he could see a map, of sorts, of the entire laboratory. 

Venka grinned. Now things were getting interesting. 

He touched a logo on the side of the screen, and was presented with a set of options.  REARRANGE GRID, CHANGE PASSWORD, CHANGE CODING SYSTEM, TURN OFF ALL POWER. TURN OFF POWER AT SELECTED POINTS. TURN OFF ANCILLARY POWER.

Venka selected the last option.

Immediately, lights started to flash throughout the engineering room. Venka knew he had to get out; but someone might come looking. He had to cover his tracks. Before the computer shut off, he cleared all the tabs and shut down the system. 

Now he was ready to go. Venka stood up as the flashing died down; the power was almost off. He'd done it, and no one would ever know. 

Any computer system was simple when you knew what to look for. 

  
  


"Here we are." Pandaki shut the door and led them to the long series of screens throughout the control room. There was a female Twi'lek sitting down in front of it, and she stood up as they entered. "Aphra, this is Kyla Dravos." 

"Doctor," Dravos said sharply. "Who is this?"

"This is a friend," Pandaki said, "who is helping us find some missing eggs. Have you seen anything?" 

"What do you think I'm doing in here?" Dravos said, pointing at the holoscreens. "We don't get feed for the whole laboratory, and what I do get has been just--" She looked up at the holoscreens. "Wait."

On one of the lower left screens, a man had just exited a room; curiously, he was wearing an Imperial uniform. 

Aphra leaned forward. "Where's he going?"

"The real question is where he came from." Dravos tapped one of the screens, and the camera zoomed in on the door the Imperial had just left. "I think--"

The screens went black. 

"What the hell?" Dravos tapped the screens, swiped a finger across them, pressed buttons, but nothing happened. Just like that, the camera feed had gone out. "Where is it?" 

Lights flickered, and the power in the control room shut off. 

"What's going on?" Pandaki demanded. He pulled out a comlink. "The power's out! Someone, talk to me!"

But there was nothing. 

“Talk to me!” Pandaki demanded again, but there wasn’t even a crackle. 

Slowly, he set down the comlink.

“Comms are dead,” Dravos said. “The entire system’s failing.” She gasped. “We have no idea if the electricity on the dragons’ cages has gone out!”

“Aphra,” Pandaki said, seizing her arm suddenly. 

“What?” Aphra demanded. “Things are kind of serious here!”

“I--I know--that’s why--” Pandaki sighed. “In case any of the dragons escape, I need to tell you something. But it won’t…” He winced. “It won’t put any of us in a good light.”

“Ever since you decided to resurrect dragons, you haven’t been in a good light.” Aphra crossed her arms. “What is it?”

“You were right,” Pandaki said. “There is a dragon out there. We didn’t know, we didn’t know for sure; but the experiment that we tested, to try and invent a new species...it didn’t fail. The dragon survived, killed several scientists, and we had no idea if it had lived or not--but what you told us is true.” He bowed his head. “And if our data is right, it has the combined genes of both the Greater and Canyon krayts.”


	12. No Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *ominous music*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again to KaelinaLovesLomaris for reading over!

It was late, and Ruya was very bored. 

After making it back up to her grandmother’s room, she had talked to her parents, who wanted to know where she had gone; they’d been worried about her. She was used to that, so she made something up about playing with some toys that were set out for children, and they’d seemed to accept that. 

Then she’d tried to go to sleep, but she’d kept on seeing Darth Vader’s awful mask looming over her, and she hadn’t been able to sleep. 

So she stayed up, reading one of the books her parents had given her. It wasn’t very exciting, and it had almost no pictures, but there was nothing else to do. At one point, Grandmother had woken and talked to Ruya for a few minutes, but then she fell back asleep. Ruya didn’t know what exactly her grandmother was ill with, but although she was getting better, it seemed to make her tired quickly. That was fine; she had her book anyway. 

But the book had not gotten any more exciting, and Ruya didn’t want to go to sleep, but she didn’t want to read either. 

She looked at the bed again. Grandmother was still asleep. 

Ruya sighed, swinging her legs back and forth as she sat in the chair. She looked at the door; outside, she could still hear her parents talking to the doctor. They wouldn’t be coming in any time soon. 

Ruya sighed again, got up, and swiped on the holoprojector. Maybe there would be a program on that she could watch. 

She kept the volume down for Grandmother’s sake and swiped a finger through the channels. Nothing looked interesting. There was just intergalactic news, more news, another news program that looked and sounded a little different--maybe it was that the people sounded nicer, and they weren’t all humans--a show about baby banthas that looked really cutesy and boring--

What was this? This looked more intriguing. Someone was shooting someone else. This was something her parents would have turned off immediately. 

Ruya looked at the door; still firmly shut. Grandmother? Still asleep. 

She kept watching. Now this was something, she thought excitedly as a Twi’lek was shown climbing up to the top of a building, higher and higher; he was getting away from someone. Suspenseful music kicked in, and Ruya sat down, reaching for the bowl of juju fruit resting next to the bed. The hero looked over his shoulder, popped off a couple of shots--

Darkness. 

Just like that, the screen had gone black. 

“Hey.” Ruya stood up and hit the holoprojector a few times; nothing happened. “Hey! Come back!” 

“Ruya?” Ruya turned around; her grandmother was sitting up. “Whatever is the matter?”

“Oh,” she said. “Sorry.” 

“Oh, it’s quite all right,” Grandmother said, though she did look tired still and Ruya felt guilty. “What’s going on?”

“The holoprojector thing,” Ruya said, pointing at the screen, “I was watching it, and it just--” 

Before she could finish her sentence, the lights started to flicker. 

“I don’t think it was just the holoprojector,” Grandmother said, looking up at the ceiling. 

Ruya backed up slowly, wondering if she’d done anything; but as lights began to flicker across the skyway to the rest of the hospital, she doubted she’d done anything _that_ big. 

The lights flickered faster, brighter. Ruya looked away; it hurt her eyes. 

Then the door opened, and Ruya’s parents came inside. 

“Jobal,” said her father to Grandmother. “Jobal, are you all right?”

“Yes,” said Grandmother. “So is Ruya. She said--”

“The holoprojector just went off,” Ruya said. She snapped her fingers. “Like that.” 

“You didn’t touch anything?” Mother asked her.

Ruya shook her head. “I was just watching a program, just sitting down.” 

Mother frowned. “That’s strange. I wonder what--” 

The speaker over the door crackled, even as the lights flickered faster and brighter. 

“Attention, hospital residents,” said a calm, friendly-sounding female voice. “This is not an emergency; just a temporary problem with the electricity. This is a new establishment, after all, and accidents may happen. We are working on the problem right now, so please, stay in your rooms. Do not--”

One more crackle, and the voice was gone. 

A second later, all the lights were, too. 

Ruya and her family were in complete darkness. 

  
  
  


The power was out. 

“What is the problem?” Vader demanded, letting go of Luke and seizing the arm of the first passing technician. He didn’t seem to understand that not everything was under his control. “Why is the power gone?”

“I, I--” The technician stammered. “I don’t--”

“Let him go, he doesn’t know anything,” Luke snapped. “Don’t you see?”

“No. The lights are not functional.”

At first, Luke didn’t have a response. He’d thought Vader might be the type to remain stoic even in the face of crisis, but it appeared the man _did_ have an unforeseen sense of humor.

“I _know_ that, you--” Luke groaned. It wasn’t worth arguing. “We can’t get out the way you want us to. Not the way we all came in.” 

“And why not?” Vader took a step closer, and it took every inch of Luke’s willpower not to move backward. 

“Because it runs on power. I’m pretty sure.” Luke turned to the technician. “Isn’t that true?”

“The...the south entrance?” the technician asked. 

Luke nodded. 

“Yes,” the tech confirmed. “You will not be able to use it.” 

Vader raised a finger in warning, jabbing it in Luke’s face. “This had better not be a trick, Luke, designed to try and escape me again.” 

“It’s not!” Luke protested, wishing that were true. Then again, maybe if there was some great distraction with the power being out, he _could_ find a way to escape…

“It’s true,” the tech said. “Until someone turns the power back on, no one will be able to leave that way.” 

Vader turned to address the technician, who began to tremble. “And how does one turn the power back on?” 

“It…” The technician swallowed, as if it was hard for him to speak under such scrutiny. “It has to be done manually. Someone would have to go into the lower levels, reprogram the switches by hand, and then--”

“Useless,” Vader cut him off. “It would take too long. Are there any other exits?”

_They came in through the south entrance._

“Uh...no,” Luke said, shaking his head quickly. “Nope, it’s just this one.” He shrugged. “Too bad, I guess we’re stuck down here--”

“Technician,” Vader rumbled, and the unfortunate man’s trembles turned into a full-body shudder. “Tell the truth, or there will be consequences. Is there another entrance?”

“There are--there are two,” the technician replied. “The one at the north entrance, the newest part--it can be used with or without power, it’s probably easier to operate without--and then the one that leads back through the tunnels to the hospital.” 

What? 

“The hospital,” Luke said, pushing his way between Vader and the technician. “This place is still connected to the _hospital?”_

“Of course, we--” The technician blanched. “I can’t tell you that.” 

Luke didn’t bother to think about what the technician was talking about. He had a guess, and if he wanted the poor man to stay alive, he couldn’t say it in front of Vader. 

Besides, there was a more pressing concern at hand. 

“That means the power’s out in the hospital, too,” he said. “People there could be on life support! They could be in danger!” 

He was thinking of Ruya, of course; but there were Rebels there, some of them wounded enough to need constant supervision, and elderly people there with their families. 

Suddenly, his initial dislike for LARS came roaring back. 

“We have no time to think about them,” Vader said. _We._ Yeah, right. “Which exit is closer?” 

“The north one,” the technician replied, probably anxious to get them out of his sight. “Back that way. Once the floor tiling changes colors, you’ll be almost there. Just make sure--” 

This was his chance. 

As the technician kept talking, Luke took stock of his surroundings. They were close to the south entrance; Vader had killed almost all of the scientists in this section of the place. There was no danger there. Vader was behind him. And, now that Luke looked at the ceiling, he could see that there was a light fixture--dark now, of course--that happened to be precariously loose. 

“--jungle straight east,” the technician was finishing. “There might be some wildlife, but--”

“Wildlife presents no challenge for me,” Vader cut him off coldly. “We are leaving.” 

_The Force is still strong with you, Luke,_ whispered a voice he knew all too well. _You think it has grown weaker, but it never left._

Obi-Wan. That name brought enough anger, but at present it was helping him. He could deal with _that_ issue later. 

Vader reached for Luke’s arm, but at that exact moment Luke reached out, with his arm and with the Force, clenched his teeth, and threw all that anger at Vader. The Sith Lord must have been expecting it; he only staggered back. But then Luke stretched out his other hand, reached for the ceiling, and pulled, _pulled,_ until, with all his strength and with a yell that felt ripped from his throat, the ceiling above them fell and collapsed inward. 

Luke stumbled back, coughing and pulling on the technician’s arm. 

Then there was _rage,_ reaching for him, rage that threatened to explode like a volcano and burst open the entire facility--

“Go,” he shouted to the technician. “Go! Run!” 

The technician didn’t have to be told twice. He seemed to have gathered that Darth Vader was at least as dangerous as the creatures housed by his own facility. Luke didn’t stop. He took several turns, with no idea where he was going, feeling that rage hellbent on him, the darkness surrounding him at every turn, almost slipping on the floor, running up an incline, turning right--

The presence was gone. Just like that. 

Maybe they’d covered enough distance; maybe Luke had knocked him unconscious; maybe Vader had figured out a way to stop Luke from sensing him for the purpose of surprise. 

Luke stopped, grabbing the technician’s arm. 

“I’m getting out of here,” he said. “You need to run. _Now._ Don’t stay with me, that’s too dangerous. Run until you think you’re safe, and don’t let him find you.” 

With several jerking nods, the technician turned around and ran. 

Luke took a deep breath, steeling himself. He was safe. He was safe; he’d _won._ He was safe, and Vader couldn’t get to him. He had defeated his enemy, at least for the time being, if not permanently. 

Maybe he’d knocked Vader unconscious. It was likely. 

Maybe, once Luke had escaped, the lack of air would kill him. 

His enemy, the man who’d tortured his friends and mentally tortured him and cut off his hand and haunted his nightmares (and who might be his father) would be dead. 

He should have felt happy about that. 

Then why didn’t he? 

Luke decided to ignore it; that was much too uncomfortable to think about. Now that he’d escaped, and now that he’d cut Vader off from any people he could kill to get to him...where was out? What had the technician said? 

He hadn’t heard it. He’d been too busy planning an escape. 

But he thought he remembered something, about the tiling changing colors. Where they’d been, the floor had been white. 

Now it was gray, and dirtier. Yes, it had definitely changed appearance. 

After risking one glance over his shoulder, Luke squared his shoulders and walked forward. 

  
  
  


“Of course the dragon lived,” Aphra snapped. “You create something out of those genes, it’s _going_ to survive! The Canyon krayts were _built_ to survive, it’s why they lasted so long before dying out, then combine it with the Greater’s genes, that’s gonna be the deadliest thing that’s ever lived. Brute strength plus the brilliance of the Canyons? Damn brutal. Survival of the fittest at its peak. The question is, why’d you ever think to do that in the first place?”

“Because that’s what was supposed to sell our zoo,” Pandaki said miserably. “There are thousands of fantastic creatures all across the galaxy! Even if we resurrected one kind, the idea would be dangerous enough to turn parents away; but once we _invented_ our own creature, the sheer novelty of that would be too much to ignore. It’s never been done before! I figured that would work.” 

Aphra crossed her arms. “You’re an _idiot,_ you know that?”

Pandaki hung his head. 

“We need to decide what to do right now,” Rin said. “We have no idea if the dragons’ cages are still on or not.” 

“Is there a way to do that without going to the cages themselves?” Aphra asked him.

“Yes, theoretically,” Dravos said. “We could check from Engineering itself.” 

Rin looked up. “Engineering? Is there a possibility that that’s where the thief came from?” 

“Possibly,” Dravos said, rubbing her chin. “You know, that would explain everything. He steals some eggs, wants to get out...the easiest way to do that is to go through the tunnels to the hospital, which would take an hour on foot. The other two entrances need a special key to get through; we designed it that way on purpose. But if the power was off--”

“Then the north entrance would be child’s play,” Pandaki finished. “That’s where he went!” 

“Why don’t we split up?” Rin suggested. “Two of us can check to see if the cages are on; the other two can hunt down this Imperial.”

“That is a certifiably bad idea,” Aphra told him. “If the comms are down, how will we communicate if the dragons are out of their cages or if we find the thief?” 

“That’s a good point,” Dravos said. “I propose we all go to find the thief.”

“And how do we know the dragons haven’t escaped?” Aphra demanded. 

“I think we’d know,” Pandaki said gravely. “Feel the ground shaking yet?”

“Do _not_ joke about that,” Aphra warned him. “It could happen.” 

“We’ll have to risk it,” Pandaki said. “I don’t want us splitting up, and getting the thief back is the first stage; it’s the root of the problem.”

“But,” Aphra started. 

“No,” he said sharply. “Whatever else happens, those eggs must _not_ leave the facility.”

  
  
  


It was time to move. 

Kieron Venka knew he had precious little time before the scientists--and Vader, who was still in the facility--figured out what had happened and found him. Maybe they’d already spotted him, on one of their little monitors. He’d tried to avoid passing under any of them, but a few times he couldn’t help it; he’d just had to get to the Engineering room. 

Now the power was out, so he had to escape. 

Venka had found the door before with relative ease, but now the lights were off, leaving the hallways in almost complete darkness. As a result, it was almost impossible to see without a light, which he didn’t have. Twice he retraced his steps before finding the right passage, all the while hearing footsteps in the distance, the drip of water, fearing that someone had found him out after all. 

No worries. No worries. If it was difficult for him to find his way, it’d be difficult for them. 

But then, they’d designed these passages. 

Shut up, shut up, he told himself as he turned right, almost bumped into a cage--that must have belonged to one of the animals. 

Wait. Weren’t the cages supposed to be electrified?

And why wasn’t there an animal _in_ the cage? 

Maybe not this one, Venka thought, running forward now. Not this one. Maybe this one’s just for show. 

But there hadn’t been any cages before. 

_Shit. I’ve gone the wrong way._

He was starting to panic in earnest now, his breaths coming faster as he stopped and turned back the other way. There was some kind of liquid on the floor; he slipped in it, almost fell, regained his balance by holding onto the wall. 

The wall. The wall that was gray. 

He was almost there. 

Venka looked over his shoulder--he didn’t know why, there was just some impression of danger--before turning back and continuing to walk. There was more dirt on the floor now. He was almost there. 

Then where was the door? 

Venka walked faster, eyes avidly searching the walls and ceiling for a sign of that ladder, the door high above the floor. Nothing. Of course, it could have just been too dark--

That was the problem. The power outage was the entire problem, and he’d caused it. 

Venka gripped the box of eggs tighter. 

Just a little farther. He just had to get to the damned door. 

But _where was it?_

“Come on,” he whispered to himself, hearing his own ragged breaths in the dark. “Come on, come on…”

He had to be almost there, he had to be. The floor was almost covered in dirt, just like it’d been before. 

But hadn’t he turned back then? Gone down the other passage?

He had. 

He knew where he was. 

Excited, Venka turned around and walked faster, hugging the wall to his right so that he would know, he’d know exactly when--

Metal. 

Solid metal. 

There it was. 

Grasping the ladder eagerly, Venka climbed up to the top, rung after rung. He was almost there, he could tell--

_Thud._

The entire facility _shook,_ forcing Venka to lose his balance; he almost fell. One hand slipped off the rung, but he held on with the other and then the shaking had stopped. 

What had that been about? 

Was it possible the animals were larger than he’d been led to believe? 

There was no time to stick around and find out. He had all the proof he needed. 

Venka reached up the last few rungs and reached--yes! Yes, there it was! He’d arrived at the door. 

Please work, he begged. Please let the power outage work....

He touched the lid with one hand, holding onto the ladder with the other, and _pushed_ with all his considerable strength. 

There was a creak, and it gave. 

Stepping up one more rung, almost losing his balance again, Venka reached up his other arm, took hold of the lid, and shoved it open. 

Hot air. Humid, hot, sweltering air on his face, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t care; it was night, and even if it had been day he wouldn’t have cared. 

He was free.

  
  


They took four flashlights out of a compartment in the side of the control room, and walking slowly, Aphra, Pandaki, Rin, and Dravos made their way toward the north entrance.

It was almost pitch black, a problem that came of the facility being completely underground, with no viewports to speak of. They had to go slowly, checking the cages and doors for dragons. There were none; but that didn’t mean the electricity at the cages hadn’t been shut off. Maybe the dragons hadn’t figured out that the power _was_ off. 

However, Aphra doubted that that was true of the Canyons. They were intelligent animals, and from what she’d seen of them, they were always testing their cage for weaknesses. 

“No Canyon krayts to be seen,” said Pandaki, who seemed to have reached the same conclusion. He sounded relieved. “Most likely, it means the electricity’s off.”

“That’s what I wondered,” Aphra said; but then a terrible thought crossed her mind. “Or…”

She heard, rather than saw, Pandaki lean forward in the darkness. “Or what?”

Aphra turned in his general direction. “Or they’ve escaped, and they’re hunting us.” 

Pandaki was silent at that. 

Finally, he spoke. “Dravos, how close do you think the north entrance is from here?”

“Well, we haven’t yet reached the oldest part of the facility,” the Twi’lek explained. “Once everything starts to look a little older, then we’ll know.” 

“That’s not reassuring,” Aphra said. “How do we know we’re making the right turns?”

Dravos turned around to glare at her. “Just follow me and shut up.” 

They made another turn. Aphra raised her flashlight, scanning it up and down the walls. Still nothing; no open cages, no clawmarks on the walls, no drips of dragon saliva on the floor. So far, they were still safe. 

“So far” being a relative term. 

“How about a little dragon trivia,” she said to break the silence; it was getting really uncomfortable, and if she was honest with herself, more than a little eerie. “Anyone know which kind starts eating you while you’re still alive?”

“Whoa, okay!” said the other three voices simultaneously. Aphra grinned. 

“Let’s do that when we’ve safely confirmed that none of the dragons have escaped?” Rin said. 

“My apologies,” Aphra said, not sorry at all. “It’s just that up until today I was _used_ to cracking jokes like that, because the dragons I study are usually...you know... _permanently extinct._ ” She shrugged. “Just a thought.” 

“I understand that you’re angry about what we did,” Pandaki said tightly, “but even you must know not to make light of situations like these. But maybe not. You seem to have no concept of self-awareness.”

“Oh, I do,” Aphra said. “It’s just that...last I checked, I did absolutely nothing to get us into this situation. Can’t say the same for you.” 

“Okay,” Rin said brightly, “let’s go back to tense silence, I think.”

They walked forward at the same pace, continuing to shine their flashlights over all the walls and floors, which were still perfectly white. Aphra recognized this area now; it was the same place Pandaki had led them before, to see the Canyon and Greater krayts. 

“This looks familiar,” she said. “I think we’re on the right track.”

They turned a corner, and the floor was gray. 

The group let out several soft exclamations. 

“Just a little farther now,” Dravos said. “I think--”

“Left,” Pandaki said, interrupting her. “I know this area. Turn left.” 

They did so. Aphra walked toward the front, shining her flashlight up and down and--

She froze. 

Luke Skywalker was standing right in the middle of the corridor. 

And Darth Vader wasn’t with him. 

  
  


“Aphra?” Luke exclaimed in disbelief. 

Aphra lowered her flashlight slightly. “Luke? What are you doing? I thought Vader got you!” 

“He did,” Luke said, once again disconcerted by the guilt he felt over what he’d done. “I...I got away.” 

Aphra crossed her arms. “Just like that?”

“I might have caved in part of the ceiling,” Luke admitted. 

“The ceiling?” Pandaki echoed. “Of the facility?”

“Nothing else caved,” Luke said quickly. “It was the edge, near the south entrance. I did it to cut off Vader. I don’t know what happened to him; all I know is I got away.” He glanced at the other three; Pandaki, Rin, and a Twi’lek woman he didn’t know were all carrying flashlights. “Do you know what happened to the power?”

“Someone shut it down,” the woman said. “An Imperial, some kind of intruder; the same one who stole the eggs. And he’s headed toward the north entrance.”

“That’s where I’m going,” Luke said. “I think it’s only a few more turns.”

“It is,” the woman confirmed, walking past him. “Follow me.”

She led them down the hallway, turning left, then right, then left again; then she stopped. 

“Look at the ground,” she said. “See that dirt? Means we’re almost there.” She gestured up ahead. “Left, then we’ll have to climb a ladder. Seeing as we haven’t found him yet…”

“He can’t have escaped,” Pandaki said desperately. “He can’t! Those are Greater krayt eggs!”

“Again, whose fault--” Aphra started. 

Luke could see this was an ongoing argument and cut her off. “Enough. Whether he escaped or not, it was probably this way; we’re going the right direction.” He waved them forward. “Come on.”

“Wait,” Pandaki said. 

Luke turned around with a sigh. “What?”

“I…” Pandaki sighed. “The other Greater krayt--the larger one, the one that isn’t in the same compartment as the Canyons--is down this way. It’s the largest carnivore we have; I need to make sure it didn’t get out. The rest of you, get out of here. Dravos--” He addressed the Twi’lek. “Lead them out of here.” 

“Come on,” Dravos said, waving the others forward. 

Something was wrong; Luke’s skin tingled, the chill of some warning seeming to creep up his spine. It was the Force. 

Pandaki could not go alone. 

“I’ll come with you,” he said, turning back. 

Pandaki shook his head. “No, Skywalker, you need to leave. Just in case--”

“We haven’t seen or heard anything yet,” Luke said as Aphra, Dravos, and Rin walked forward into the dark. “Most likely, it hasn’t escaped. But I...I’m…” He took a deep breath. “I’m not a full Jedi. Yet. But I have the Force, and I can help you. Just in case, like you were saying.”

He smiled. 

“All right.” Pandaki returned the smile. “It would be nice to have some company.”

  
  


Pandaki had a flashlight, which was fortunate; Luke couldn’t see a thing. 

“Just a little ways,” Pandaki said, speaking quietly. “Left, then right. Then there’s a set of--” 

He stopped. They had arrived at a set of doors, durasteel, bolted, like the matching set of doors that housed the other Greater and the Canyons; except that these doors were even larger. 

“Here comes the first test,” Pandaki said, his voice shaking just a little. “If the doors are already unlocked, that’s pretty much proof the electricity on the cage is off, too.” 

“I’ll do it,” Luke said, stepping forward. Pandaki didn’t protest. 

Luke reached for the door, his fingers trembling...seized on the handle...pulled--

Nothing. 

He heaved a sigh, laughing shakily as he stepped back. 

“All right,” Pandaki said, sounding as relieved as Luke felt. “All right. That’s good. Our intruder didn’t shut off all the power.” 

“But why?” Luke asked. “Why would he only turn off part of it?”

“I don’t know.” Pandaki pulled out his key card. “I don’t know.” 

Slowly, he slid the card; with a groan, the bolts were drawn back, and then the doors swung open to admit them. 

“Let me go first,” Luke said quietly. Pandaki nodded and handed him the flashlight. 

Taking it, Luke stepped forward cautiously. He had no idea what he’d find; part of him was excited to see the Greater krayt--the Tyrant, Aphra had called it. He’d never seen one except in ancient drawings, and it would be fantastic to see one up close, and in person. 

Beyond the doors was a large, cavernous room, taller than any room he’d entered so far; it had to have been about sixty feet high. It began with a long, white-painted walkway, which led across the gigantic space to a cage that was at least half the room’s height. 

A path to a king’s throne. 

“Do you see it?” Pandaki whispered earnestly behind him. “Do you see it?”

Luke motioned for him to be quiet. No, he didn’t; the cage was in shadows, and they were too far away.

They came closer, and still Luke couldn’t see anything.

And closer. 

And closer.

Now Luke did speak, turning to address Pandaki. “Where is it?”

“I…” Pandaki shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Is the cage large?”

“Fairly.” 

“Then…” Luke turned back, facing forward. “It’s probably way at the back. Sleeping, or something.”

He moved again, his footsteps seeming to echo. 

“But it’s nocturnal,” he heard from behind him. 

_Danger,_ the Force was whispering, just like it had in the jungle, with the unseen creature. _Danger._

Then he stopped. They were at the cage. 

There was nothing there; nothing, except a small pool of water--probably for drinking--and a gaping hole at the back of the cage. 

“The power’s off,” Pandaki whispered. “Power went off--”

Luke ignored him, staring in horror at the empty cage. Where had it gone? Where the hell had that thing gone? 

  
  
  


“Here,” Dravos said, pointing to a ladder on the side of the wall. “Here we are, the other two should be along in a few minutes.” She motioned to Rin. “Go.”

Rin took hold of the first rung, climbing up; then Dravos went, and Aphra followed behind. It felt longer than she’d thought; rung after rung after rung, pulling herself up. 

Hot air. Humid, moist, thick air, rushing over her face, and Aphra took hold of the door to let herself out--

_Thud._

The door shook under her fingers, along with the rest of the facility; the walls, ceiling, floor, ladder, everything trembled, as if hit by a small earthquake. 

_Thud._

Slowly, half out of the facility, Aphra looked back. 

It was coming from the direction Luke and the doctor had gone. 

  
  


The water was shaking. 

Tiny ripples, small at first, then growing larger, moved out towards the edge of the pool. 

_Thud._

Luke straightened, holding his flashlight limp at his side. 

The Force was screaming at him. Danger. Danger. It was right there. 

“Pandaki,” he said, grabbing the doctor’s arm. “Pandaki! We need to--” 

Pandaki grabbed him back, fingers tightening painfully on Luke’s arm, the doctor’s whole hand shaking in fear. 

The light was still shining on the cage. 

_Thud._

And then something blotted it out. 

Something behind them. 

Pandaki whimpered beside him. 

Slowly, very, very slowly, terrified of what he might see, Luke turned around. And almost fell over. 

It was hard to know where to look. 

He supposed he’d better start at the bottom. 

First there were six sharp claws, each the length of a small knife. 

Then, the scaly feet the claws belonged to. 

Then, the legs, with harder scales beginning to appear. 

Then, the monstrous torso, covered in those scales, shining like the moon. A breastplate for a warrior. 

Then tiny arms, tipped with claws, probably useful in devouring prey.

Then the neck, where the scales began to thin and disappear. 

And finally, the head: three times the size of the Canyon’s, with a gaping maw full of sharp teeth that opened wider when it saw them, and horns on the top of its head, and small, beady eyes that stared down at them. 

A living, breathing Greater krayt dragon, back from the dead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you wondering, the first time the facility shook(when Venka was escaping) it was NOT the dragon. One, for continuity purposes that wouldn't work, because Aphra is climbing the ladder the first time that group feels it shake; and two, Luke collapsing part of the facility is what caused it to shake the first time.


	13. The Hunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AT LAST WE'RE HERE I'M AS PUMPED AS Y'ALL ARE BELIEVE ME

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This is one of the reasons for the violence warning. Remember the Jurassic Park movies? Yeah? This is that. And maybe slightly worse than that, I'm really bad at estimating where something falls on the horror spectrum so I apologize if anything is too much. 
> 
> Thanks as always to KaelinaLovesLomaris for reading over!

_What had Luke done?_

That was the first thought to cross Vader’s mind as an avalanche of dust and bricks and _solid metal_ caved in on him. He had been expecting Luke to make another move like this; after two failures, he’d learned not to underestimate the boy, even when he _appeared_ to have given up. 

And he had, for a time; the fear and resignation Vader had felt from him had been absolutely real. But Luke had also been terrified on Bespin, and in the turbolift. And both times, he had somehow found the strength to rally and call on the Force when it was least expected of him. 

So Vader had waited, ecstatic at having found Luke but not overly so; waiting for that opportunity when he might escape again using the Force. 

But the power outage was troubling, not for the facility’s sake, but simply for the reason that it made getting out more complicated. And, in the interest of making sure it was difficult for Luke to escape, Vader had made sure he would know exactly where they were going. 

Ironically, it was then that Luke had sprung his attack. 

Vader had the mental space to be furious--at himself, first and foremost--as the debris knocked him over. Distantly, he heard Luke screaming something--most likely a command for that technician to run--but he was too distracted with the task of keeping the debris from piling up on top of him. Fortunately, his suit--torturous in all other ways--had a filtration system that kept any kind of dust from entering his lungs. That would have meant death for him, in minutes. But his suit could be damaged if enough debris fell on it, which he could not _afford._

 _What had Luke done,_ echoed repeatedly as he threw his entire strength into the Force, seizing on the heavy, dangerous materials falling over and around him to hurl them away. 

Was the boy _insane?_ Did he understand that such an attack could, theoretically, collapse the entire facility? 

Once Vader found him, Luke would not be pulling such dangerous stunts ever again.

But the fact of the matter was that he _had_ pulled such a stunt. He had done so in the moment, in the midst of fear, with most likely no planning at all, calling on the Force when he had been unable to earlier, in order to stop Vader from capturing him. On a whim. 

It was impressive. More than impressive. It was pride-inducing. 

So, once the debris had stopped falling, the second thought to cross his mind was: _My son is truly powerful with the Force._

He would make an even better Sith than Vader. 

But first, he had to stop escaping. 

Several minutes later, the dust was still clearing, and to make matters worse, his use of the Force to save his suit had created a larger problem: the largest of the boulders had landed directly in his path. He could move it easily, but he was simply irritated that he wasn’t able to leave this part of the facility immediately. 

He reached into the Force--

And then he felt it. 

First, through the Force itself. A tidal wave of terror, rolling over and through him; and a sense of terrible, blinding danger. It was real enough that Vader thought, at first, that _he_ was in danger. 

Then he realized it was coming from Luke. 

And then he felt it literally. 

_Thud._

It came from far off in the facility, but Vader still felt it. The floor trembled underneath him, and several pebbles of brick fell from the ceiling. 

_Thud._

Something was coming. But not for him. 

For Luke. 

Vader took a moment to wonder just _what._ It couldn’t be the scientists. Not even they could cook up--

Oh. 

But they _had_ cooked it up, hadn’t they? 

And the power outage had set it free. 

More fear reached him, blind terror. Luke again. Vader doubted that the boy even realized he was doing it, hardly knew he was reaching toward his father; he was doing it instinctively. 

And that would have overjoyed Vader, except that Luke was in mortal peril.

Vader had waited long enough. Reaching into the Force, he gave a _roar,_ and the boulder flew hundreds of feet into the distance. He didn’t know, or care, where it had gone. 

All he knew was that his way was clear. 

Determined, Vader rose to his feet. Politics and orders from the Emperor were, temporarily, worthless. 

All that mattered was that Luke was being attacked by a very real krayt dragon, and he had to find him. 

Before it was too late. 

  
  


One of the greatest monsters to ever roam the galaxy. The most fearsome predator Tatooine had ever known. 

The Tyrant.

And it was standing right in front of them. 

In a moment, Luke realized, they had stopped being spectators, and instead had become prey. 

Somewhere in the back of his brain he was marveling at the creature; he’d never seen a Greater krayt before, only the fossil of one, and for a boy raised on Tatooine, this was a dream come true. But he could feel his legs begin to shake as he stood there, Pandaki trembling beside him, and the krayt stood there looking down at them. 

_Move,_ a voice in the back of his mind whispered. _Move!_

But he couldn’t. He could only stand there, frozen. 

_Those legs are twice as tall as I am._

“Holy shit,” Pandaki whimpered over and over. “Holy shit, holy shit--”

Luke whipped around to glare at him. “Shut up!” 

There was a hot hiss of air--a scream from Pandaki--a warning from the Force--he threw himself away just in time, literally leaping backwards into the air and landing hard on the floor. For a moment he sat there, dazed. 

A shrill scream from Pandaki brought him back to focus. 

The dragon--who of course had noticed them once Luke turned his head--had turned and with two quick, earth-shaking steps caught up to the poor doctor. Pandaki spun around before she could attack, pulling out a blaster; but his hand shook. 

He couldn’t do it. 

Of course not. He’d created this thing. 

However, the dragon had no such sentimentalities. She took advantage of the opportunity before her, the head lunging downward to seize Pandaki’s arm--

“No!” Luke shouted, getting to his feet; his head spun, he staggered slightly, but stayed upright. Desperately, he ran toward the dragon. “Hey! Hey, over here!” 

The dragon turned her head slightly to regard Luke; but she didn’t drop Pandaki, whose screams had turned to wet shouts of pain from the massive teeth clamped onto his arm. 

_Why don’t I have my lightsaber?_ Luke thought in frustration. Obi-Wan had told him, on the way to what they had thought would be Alderaan, that krayt dragons were easily distracted by bright lights. 

But in the absence of a lightsaber, he still had the Force. 

It was a daunting prospect. Luke had never used the Force on large objects so repeatedly--at least, not successfully--but he had no other choice. 

So, stretching out a hand and closing his eyes, Luke reached into the Force. 

_Be with me,_ he prayed as Pandaki screamed louder. _Help me--_

Then he felt it. The Force was with him. 

Basking in that sensation, Luke reached out, found the dragon’s consciousness, found its jaw, and _pushed._ The dragon hissed, Luke could hear saliva dripping from its mouth--Luke pushed harder, trying to distract it enough, shove it away…

But something wasn’t giving. The dragon was much stronger than he had thought, it was a _giant_ to move, he was exhausted--

_You are beaten. It is useless to resist._

_No,_ he told the memory of Vader, drawing more on the Force even as his arms and legs shook and the dragon hissed and--

There was a thump beside him. Luke opened his eyes. 

Pandaki was on the floor--bleeding--his arm shredded from the elbow down, he was screaming--but now the dragon was fixated on Luke. She stared at him for one moment, oblivious to her creator’s agony, and took a step forward--

He had to get out. He’d done it before, he could do it again…

Luke was exhausted, but there was no time for exhaustion. Reaching into the Force, he _shoved._

The dragon halted for a moment, and Luke strained--his hands shook--he couldn’t do this for much longer. A pressure was starting to build in his head, in his eyes, and he didn’t think he could stand it much longer--

_Thud._

The dragon had taken a slow step forward. 

Luke pushed harder, but it was clear that the dragon was gaining strength, and he was growing weaker; tears sprang to his eyes as he threw all of his energy into keeping it back. 

In the midst of that, he focused on Pandaki, who was crawling towards the door.

“Get up!” Luke shouted hoarsely. “Run!” 

A hiss escaped the dragon. Desperately, he drew on every inch of his strength, focusing back on his task; but then, out of nowhere, the dragon turned slightly. Before Luke could do anything, the giant tail came swinging around, catching him in the stomach and sending him flying across the room. 

With a smack, his head collided with the wall and he dropped to the floor, fighting with consciousness. 

Dimly, he heard Pandaki screaming again; the dragon was somewhere, he realized. Somewhere close…

_Thud._

Close to him. 

_Thud._

“Skywalker!” Pandaki screamed. “Skywalker!”

 _He was the one in danger,_ Luke realized, but his head still hurt too much--his energy was far spent, and he couldn’t even muster the strength to lift himself--

_Thud._

With a great effort, Luke opened his eyes and focused. He blinked again. It was almost impossible to make sense of what he was seeing, but maybe it was because his head was spinning so much. 

In front of him were three scaly, clawed toes. 

  
  


“We have to go back,” Aphra shouted to her companions. “Come on!” 

“Are you insane?” Dravos shouted back. “Did you feel that, by any chance? That’s one of the dragons!”

“The Greater,” Rin whispered with a shudder. “We need to run!”

“Yeah, we do,” Aphra said. “Run _back._ ”

“Again, you’re insane,” Dravos said, and then they almost all fell as the ground underneath them shook again. “That thing is going to eat all of us alive.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she said, “if we let Luke die. But he’s a Jedi, and he is the _only_ person here who is anywhere near equipped to help us against those things. And Pandaki is the person here who knows the most about his creations. If they both die, we’re all royally screwed!” She stretched out her hand. “Rin, come on! I know you don’t give a shit about Skywalker, but are you really going to let Pandaki die?”

Rin looked at Aphra, panic in his eyes; then to Dravos, who shook her head; then back to Aphra. 

“No,” Rin said, walking back towards the trap door. 

“That’s my guy,” Aphra said, moving out of the way to let him climb down. “Dravos, come on!”

But Dravos shook her head. “You two can do what you want, I’m not going to stop you. But I am _not_ joining you.”

“Fine.” Aphra tossed her hair back. “Got a blaster?”

Dravos frowned. “Don’t you already have, like, half a million weapons or something?”

“I mean for the little genius over here,” Aphra said, gesturing to Rin. 

“All right. Sure.” Dravos pulled a blaster and tossed it to Rin, who just barely caught it. “Just don’t expect me to come back when I hear you scream.”

“I wouldn’t scream,” Aphra said with a smirk. “Not even if I was being devoured alive.” 

  
  


The dragon was going to kill him. 

Luke knew that, as surely as he knew that his name was Luke Skywalker and he was from Tatooine. There was also a thought, far in the back of his mind, that there was something he could do to stop it. But the combination of being thrown against the wall and using the Force two times in quick succession to slow the monster had exhausted him far beyond his limit, and he could barely even think.

 _Get up,_ whispered a voice. _Get up. GET UP!_

But he couldn’t. The dragon loomed over him, her two legs planted on the ground. He felt more than saw her head descend, the jaws open, the hot air rush over his face--

“Hey!” 

The voice, decidedly feminine, both broke Luke out of his daze and distracted the dragon. Her head spun round, and she let loose a _roar,_ the like of which Luke had never heard before in his life: loud and piercing, it echoed like the sound of trumpets and shook the walls. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” came the voice--feminine, but abrasive. Aphra, Luke realized. “Look at me, you bitch!” 

In response, the dragon roared again. 

Aphra was in no way equipped to fight that thing. The headache was far from gone, but Luke didn’t care; he _had_ to move. Fighting, struggling, pushing past the ache in his bones and the exhaustion in his spirit and the overwhelming desire to go back to sleep, he dragged himself to his feet. 

The dragon was at the door now, facing Aphra and Rin; Pandaki was several feet away, clutching his injured arm. Aphra was firing at it as it approached her, one thudding step after another, but with no success. 

Another few seconds, and the dragon would have her. 

He didn’t have time. _None_ of them had time. 

“Come on,” he said, stooping to seize Pandaki’s uninjured arm. “Come on, we need to go.” 

“No,” Pandaki stammered; his eyes were wide, and his skin felt clammy. He was in shock. “No--I need--”

“You need to get out. Come on.” Luke tried to ignore the way that Pandaki’s hand was completely gone, his forearm a mass of blood and ripped skin and thin ribbons of muscle, a bone protruding out of his elbow like a long knife. At least he was alive. “We need to go!”

Another tremor shook the ground--the dragon’s head descended for Aphra--

_No._

“Run!” Luke screamed at her as he and Pandaki ran past, almost slipping on the blood the doctor had left behind. 

Aphra’s eyes had gone wide, her hands shaking; but it appeared that she’d been planning for this moment. Taking careful aim, she took a step back, raised the blaster at the ceiling, and fired. 

The ceiling exploded for the second time in the last few minutes, this time onto the dragon; Luke wondered if she’d gotten the idea from him.

Why hadn’t _he_ thought to do it with a blaster?

No time for that, he thought hastily as Pandaki’s arm dripped more freely onto the floor; the doctor was losing blood quickly. After a moment of indecision, Luke ripped off part of his own jacket and wrapped it tightly around the stump. Pandaki gave a cry of pain as the wound was aggravated.

“Hold that there,” Luke told him sternly. “It’ll keep you--”

“Go,” Aphra said, seizing Luke’s arm. “Go, go, get out of here!”

Luke needed no other encouragement. He broke into a run, pulling Pandaki with him, as the dragon hissed and growled behind them. Quickly, he looked over his shoulder; Rin was huffing several paces behind him.

“Hurry up,” Luke told him. “Don’t slow down!”

Rin sped up, sprinting faster and gasping for breath; Luke doubted the man had run anywhere in his life, but he wasn’t going to see anyone else die. The four companions ran together to the end of the hall, rounding the corner so fast they almost all tripped over themselves, then sprinting down the next corridor. 

Before they reached the end of it, the entire facility started to shake. 

“Uh-oh,” Aphra muttered. 

A split second later, that unearthly, bone-chilling roar echoed through the passages behind them. 

They were out of time. 

Luke hesitated a split second at the end of the corridor, trying to decide where to--

“Left!” Rin screamed shrilly. “Left, left, LEFT!” 

Luke turned left, pulling the entire group with him; Pandaki was continuing to whimper, but he couldn’t focus on the doctor now. He just had to get him _out,_ where he could help them. 

The ground was shaking so much now that they could barely stand; the ceiling shook; the dragon was _running_ behind them now, and the walls were crumbling. 

“The facility can’t stand it,” Pandaki said at last; the first intelligible words he’d spoken. “The room she was kept in was built to be taller--the facility can’t stand her when she’s upright--”

“Then we’re getting out,” Luke said, turning right.

 _Please be the right way, please be the right way,_ he begged as another roar echoed. Rin put his hands over his ears. 

“But--” It was clear that their survival was not, apparently, Pandaki’s prime concern. “But--the rest of the evidence--”

“Do you want to live?” 

Pandaki nodded his head vigorously. 

“We’re here, we’re here!” Aphra screamed; the ladder was right there. “Come on!” 

“Then climb,” Luke said, practically throwing the doctor upward. 

“I’m right here,” he heard from above him; Dravos. “Doctor, I--” A gasp reached them. “What the hell, what the _hell!_ ”

“Just keep him from bleeding out,” Luke shouted, turning to Rin. “You next.”

The geneticist scrambled upward. Several rungs up he almost fell; the ceiling _above them_ was starting to cave in now, the trap door shook dangerously, the thudding footsteps were almost--

He was up. 

“Go, go!” Luke grabbed Aphra’s arm, but she resisted. 

“No,” she said stubbornly. “You need to go.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Luke snapped, more out of absolute terror than anything else. “You need to go, it’s almost here--”

Chunks of rock and brick fell to the ground all around them. 

“No! You’re the Jedi, you need to survive--”

“Yeah, and I _will,_ that’s why _you_ need to--”

“No!” Aphra looked really, truly desperate. “It’s my fault we’re even in this situation at all; if I hadn’t been here, the Empire never would’ve arrived and that Imperial never would’ve shut the power off!”

Ah. She felt responsible. 

Luke nodded quickly and started to climb, Aphra right behind him. 

And even as they climbed, the walls, the ceiling, everything fell; Luke realized he’d need to jump. Gathering all his strength and ignoring what was turning out to be a massive headache, he leaped the rest of the way to solid ground. 

Aphra was still climbing. 

Luke turned back to her even as she struggled to find another handhold and held out his hand, reaching down. 

“Aphra! Come on!” 

Aphra had never looked more relieved. She reached up, grasped with her hand--

She couldn’t reach. 

Luke took a deep breath. This was going to kill him. 

He reached out his hand further and grasped the Force to him. Below them, two more thundering footsteps came--the headache reached the point of pure agony--the dragon was there, beginning to burst into the outside world--

Luke _yanked,_ screaming as the effort caused pain to explode in his chest and head and arms, but then Aphra was resting on solid ground. Safe. 

He fell to his knees beside her, gasping for breath and clutching both hands to his head. 

Beneath them, the ground shook. 

“Luke!” Aphra pulled at his arm. “Luke, come on!” 

With a tremendous effort, Luke got to his feet and staggered away, running as far backward as he could. 

It wasn’t far enough. 

A moment later, the earth exploded, and with a window-shattering roar the Greater krayt dragon took her first steps into Felucia. 

  
  


The power had been out for fifteen minutes. In Ruya’s opinion, that was too long. 

“Mama, when are the lights going to be back on?” she asked again. 

“I don’t know, darling,” her mama sighed. “Just relax and try to go to sleep.”

“I can’t,” Ruya said. “I’ve been having nightmares.”

“Nightmares?” Mama frowned. “You’ve never had a problem with nightmares. What are they about?”

Ruya couldn’t say Darth Vader, she knew that. Her parents were terrified of him. Well, most people were, but for some reason with her parents it seemed different. 

“A monster,” she said at last, because it was true. 

“Oh, Ruya.” Mama held her close. “Well, there are no monsters here, you can be sure of that. This is a civilized part of Felucia, and after this we’ll be going home, to Naboo, where you can play in the garden again.”

Ordinarily, Ruya would have liked that. But something else had caught her attention. 

Her cup was shaking. 

“Ruya?” 

Ruya watched the cup. It continued to shake, and shake, like there was an earthquake; and then it stopped. 

She looked at her mama. “Did you see that?”

Mama shook her head. 

Ruya looked out toward the jungle. Somehow, she thought, it had something to do with the jungle. She knew it did. 

She got up and walked to the viewport. 

“Ruya, what’s wrong?” 

Ruya didn’t answer. Instead, she went to the viewport and looked out. Everything _looked_ all right, but--

Something roared. 

It was in the far distance, partly beneath them and partly toward the jungle, but it was definitely some kind of a creature. And, as terrifying as it was, she knew she had never heard it before. 

“Luke,” she remembered out loud. Did this all have to do with Darth Vader? Ruya didn’t know, but Luke had been mixed up in some kind of trouble, and now there was a creature loose. 

Mama got up, coming to stand by her side. “What?”

“Luke,” Ruya said again, not wanting to say his last name. She didn’t know for sure, but that might get her in trouble too. 

“Luke?” Mama frowned. “Luke what?”

“Just Luke,” Ruya said. “He’s a friend I made earlier, when I was walking around the hospital.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Mama said. “Luke _what?_ ”

Ruya sighed. “Luke Skywalker.” 

Mama went white. 

Now Ruya was more confused than ever. 

  
  


Darth Vader never ran. He was acutely aware that a man called Anakin Skywalker had used to do so. Anakin had always been in a hurry, always impatient, always seeking new adventure, always desperate to get somewhere before anyone else. Always running. 

But running was indicative of a loss of control. Running meant that you were desperate. 

Darth Vader was never desperate. He was _always_ in control. That had been Anakin’s problem, his weakness. He had lacked control. So Vader never ran. 

But he was running now. 

He had to. The facility was shaking, repeatedly, over and over. In the distance, there was screaming, shouting, the sound of blasters being fired. 

In the Force, Luke was attacking the dragon, over and over. 

Luke had never used the Force this much, that Vader knew, except on Bespin; Luke only used the Force extensively when he was in danger, when he was desperate. It stood to reason that both would be true now. 

Vader ran faster. 

The facility shook harder. 

More blaster shots. 

And then a roar that he, Darth Vader, had only heard tales of. Somewhere between a trumpet, a bird’s cry, and a rancor’s scream; it was unholy, the sound of demons come to play. 

He was too late. 

_He was too late._

Horrified, he reached into the Force, searching for Luke’s presence; it was still there. Dim, weak, but there. The boy was unconscious. 

Another unholy roar followed. 

Still there. 

But maybe not for much longer. 

  
  


Armageddon had arrived. 

They had escaped, but to what? Out of the frying-pan, into the fire, was it? And now Luke was more exhausted than ever, far beyond what he had ever imagined he could do with the Force, and Pandaki had a ruined arm and was in shock, and they were alone in the wild. 

The dragon rose over the five of them. Staring at her meal. 

They had to move. 

But not him. He would have to fight the dragon. 

Already, Luke knew he wouldn’t survive. The prospect was terrifying; but this way, he would never be turned. And after the ordeal at Bespin, he knew that Leia was Force Sensitive. He could come to her as a ghost, tell her to go to Yoda for training--

No. He couldn’t think about that now. 

All that mattered, in the moment, was saving his new friends. 

_I am going to die,_ he thought to himself, accepting it. _I’m going to die._

Then, slowly and deliberately, he turned to look at the others. 

“Go,” he said, keeping his voice level. “I’ll hold her off.” 

Aphra’s head whipped toward him; her eyes had gone wide.

“No,” she said, looking absolutely horrified. “No, you can’t move, everyone has to--”

At first Luke wondered if this was a rare self-sacrificial moment again. 

Then, as the dragon lifted her head, he realized that was not the case. 

Rin and Dravos, unhindered by an injury, had turned and broken into a sprint immediately, Rin with the blaster at his side. 

And the dragon, footsteps thundering, lunged forward into a run, jaws open wide. With a shout, Aphra pulled Luke and Pandaki out of the way, throwing them to the ground. 

From his position there, Luke could see Rin and Dravos turn around, scream, shouting at the other to run faster, the dragon gaining ground in seconds--

“No!” Luke rolled around, got to his feet, and tried to run forward. 

He was stopped by Aphra’s hand around his wrist. 

“Aphra, stop!” Luke demanded. “We have to help them, don’t you--”

“No, Luke,” Aphra said fiercely. “We can’t do anything.” 

Luke shook her arm off. “Well, I’m going to. This thing has to be killed.”

He sprinted forward, toward Rin and Dravos, toward the dragon that was almost upon them--

Then stopped short, as the dragon dipped its head down and seized Dravos’ entire upper torso in her mouth. 

Rin was screaming, Dravos was screaming from _inside the dragon,_ blood dripped freely from the dragon’s jaws--Rin, whose torso was now spattered with blood, started firing on the dragon, to no avail--there was an awful _crunch,_ Luke felt sick--

Dravos was gone. 

“Run!” Aphra screamed behind him. “Luke! RUN!” 

Luke was frozen. He couldn’t move. 

Once she was done chewing, the dragon would go for Rin next. 

Ruya was at the hospital. There were Rebels at the hospital, and there was nothing stopping this monster from devouring them too. 

For the second time, Luke accepted his death. 

He reached out with the Force, feeling first Rin, the dragon hellbent on killing him--he could surprise it from behind...and then...

Then, the overpowering black hole in the Force.

Yes, of course, he thought through his panic, of course Vader could survive an entire ceiling collapsing on top of him, cross the entire facility, and get to this exact clearing in the amount of time it took Luke to wake the Rogues up in the morning. Of course. Not only did he have to deal with a krayt dragon engineered to have the strength and size of a warship blended with a herd of Banthas, his...his... _Vader_ was trying to capture him at the same time. Perfect. 

_Capture him...or kill him._

Between the two, Luke figured he’d take the dragon. 

Well, then. Rin was screaming, trying to run, still staying barely out of the dragon’s reach; no better time than now. Slowly, he got to his feet, willing his legs not to shake, and drew his blaster. 

Then the dragon raised its head and let loose the most bloodcurdling roar Luke had heard in his entire life. 

Luke froze in place, his blood ran cold and... _for Ruya, for Aphra, for the people in the hospital,_ he told himself. He ran forward, hoping krayts could be killed by blaster bolts, and took aim. 

And then a hand closed on the back of his jacket. 

The overpowering Force presence wrapped around him, too tight to be comfortable, and Luke was spun around to face the Sith, who appeared—if it was possible—even larger than he had been in the confines of the facility. How had Luke not sensed him coming? _Must have been too focused on the dragon,_ he thought, _which is pretty reasonable..._

“What are you _doing?”_ Vader's voice seemed to ring through the forest, and Luke flinched, but that didn’t seem to stop Vader from clenching a hand on his shoulder with all the strength of a Rancor. “Unless you are _unaware,_ that—“ He gestured with his free hand to the dragon now tearing through the archaeologists. “That is a _krayt dragon,_ engineered to be ten times more powerful than one that you or I would find if we ever were overwhelmed by stupidity and returned to Tatooine.” Dark tendrils seemed to constrict tighter around him; Luke desperately tried to shove them away, but they only faltered for a moment and returned, tighter than ever. “There is _nothing_ that blasters could do against it, do you understand? Nothing!”

“No, stop! Don’t you get it, I have to—“ Desperately, Luke tried to yank himself away, but Vader’s hand tightened, yanking him back, and slid down so that it now had a vicelike grip on his upper arm. “No, you don’t understand! There are—there are people in the hospital, if the dragon gets up there—“

“Whatever happens,” Vader said, tightening his grip, “it is not _your_ mission to do anything. I can tell you what you will do; you will cease your childish protests and come back with me to the _Executor,_ where you will certainly not be attacking manufactured krayt dragons with blasters—“

“I wouldn’t be attacking it with a blaster,” Luke said heatedly before he could think, “if I had an actual lightsaber to fight with, but no, you had to slice it away with my hand on Bespin!”

Vader froze, the Force turning dark around them and the tendrils tightening almost to the point of pain; all Luke could process was _I’m going to die, he’s going to kill me, I’m going to die now._ He’d gone too far; he shouldn’t have said that—

_Thud._

The earth was shaking, once again. 

The dragon had killed Rin. 

_The dragon was coming back!_

Luke’s hand was at his side in an instant, reaching for the blaster; no matter _what_ Vader said, he wasn’t going to go down without a fight. But before he could even draw the weapon, Vader’s hand on his arm moved across his torso and spun him around so that his back was pressed against his f—against the Sith Lord’s chest. 

_Thud._ The dragon was closer, but Luke hardly noticed. He had never been this close to Darth Vader before, and he breathed faster, trying to get his panic under control; no good. It was all too much, too many things in the same day...he could feel the control panel digging into his ribs, the unyielding strength of the durasteel, the rhythmic hissing of the respirator that grated on his nerves and set his teeth on edge—

_Thud._

“Stop—“ Luke tried to wrestle away, managed to get one arm... _halfway_ free, and was yanked back again, almost violently this time. “ _Please!_ There’s a girl in the hospital, she’s just a kid! You have to let me go, I—“

Vader moved his other arm up, and suddenly there was a gloved hand clamped firmly over Luke’s mouth. A sudden sense of powerlessness overwhelmed Luke, and he pushed at Vader’s arms, kicked out with his legs—

_THUD._

The dark side of the Force surrounded them, tinged with anger and determination and—fear? No, that couldn’t be possible, it didn’t make sense—and the tendrils coiled around him once more, freezing him in place, too tight to be comfortable. 

**_Do not move,_ ** the authoritative voice declared inside his head, sharp and commanding, and Luke went rigid, struggling with memories of Bespin. That _voice,_ in his head again, never leaving him alone, just like during all those missions for the Rebellion that had been almost ruined by his panic attacks. _If we stay here, unmoving, we will be safe, she will not see us; but if you wish to remain alive, you cannot even think of—_

**_THUD._ **

With an earth-shaking tremor, the dragon arrived in front of them, and all thoughts of Darth Vader ceased to matter. There it was, closer than it had been before, beady eyes, scaly claws, long teeth, and all. For several seconds, it towered above them, simply staring. Luke stared back, hardly daring to breathe—and that was difficult to do anyway, with the dark Force tendrils surrounding him and Vader’s hand over his mouth. Several seconds passed. 

Then it moved. 

The huge head—at least two times the size of Vader himself, maybe three—bent down in front of them, as if to sniff or...or something else. _No, not that, please..._ Luke could feel his breath coming in quick, short bursts; the eyes were almost on level with his, merciless and cold and greedy; he could almost feel its breath; the long, sharp teeth, hundreds of them, were inches from his face—

Luke closed his eyes, resisting the urge to jerk away, or scream, or maybe both at once. At the same time, he felt Vader’s arm across his chest tighten; and though that should have made him feel even more powerless, something about it felt...reassuring. 

Another rush of air, and the giant head came closer. Luke hadn’t opened his eyes, but he could feel the hot breath now, almost against his face. He shuddered, and the sense of anger through the Force spiked; not his. _Don’t think about it._ He could hear the hissing of Vader’s respirator, in...out...the slightly faster breathing of the dragon, directly in front of him. Vader had been wrong, he thought wildly, it was going to see them anyway—it was going to eat them both—

 _Go away,_ Luke begged desperately, and then some sort of noise from the dragon—no, please no—a hot exhale, and something dripped down onto the two of them, something wet and slimy and...ugh. Was that...dragon saliva?

Luke tried not to shudder again; it would probably notice that, this close. But it was _so hard..._ his knees wanted to shake. He suspected that Vader’s arm across his chest might be the only thing preventing him from passing out. That would definitely not be ideal. Not only would the dragon see it, but Vader would have him at his mercy...neither of those would be good, Luke thought in his half-panicked mess of a brain. 

_Go away. Please, please,_ please _go away. We’re not here. We’re not moving...we didn’t do anything..._

_I don’t want to die, please..._

The leather-clad arms tightened again. Luke hardly noticed. All he could hear was the hot breath, right against his face, the teeth that were almost touching him—

 **_Thud_ ** _._

_Thud._

The breath was gone. 

_Thud._

_Thud..._

Minutes passed, and then slowly, eventually, the grip on his mouth and chest loosened. Hardly daring to hope, Luke opened his eyes, just a crack; it was gone! It was walking away! Another several seconds, and Vader released Luke, though he remained within a fingertip’s reach. 

Luke staggered back, gasping for breath, and slowly lowered himself to the ground, not caring that his worst enemy was about two feet from him as he slipped in and out of blind panic. _Deep breaths...in and out...head between your knees if you need to..._

“On your feet, you are coming with me,” Vader snapped from above, sounding legitimately...well, anxious wasn’t the right word, but something like that. When Luke didn’t respond, he was yanked to his feet. “NOW!”

Again, Luke had no reply. He was still trying to catch up with the fact that he’d been face to face with a giant krayt for at least five minutes and it had just...walked away. He was safe. Well, no, not safe, actually far from safe; but he was alive. He was standing, he hadn’t even been remotely injured…

Vader interrupted his scattered train of thought by seizing his wrist, for about the thousandth time that day, and yanking him forward. 

  
  


The second Luke had run after the dragon, Aphra knew it was time to go. 

Whether he lived or died was no longer up to her; she’d saved him before, and he had places he could run now. He had more options. Besides, _she_ needed to survive. Her streak of self-consciousness had been annoying and thankfully brief, and she was bred to survive. 

So survive, she would. 

But she was taking Pandaki with her. 

Whether that was more of the stupid, annoying conscience or a need to have another krayt dragon expert with her, Aphra didn’t know. But Pandaki needed to live. 

“Come on,” she said, seizing his uninjured arm. “Come on, we’re getting out of here!” 

Pandaki blinked up at her. 

_Shit,_ she realized. _He’s lost too much blood._

That was when Darth Vader appeared. 

_Get away from me,_ he’d told her. _Never let me find you again._

Well, looked like she was going to die. 

Except that he walked out of the open hole in the earth, covered in dirt and dust, and marched straight past her like she wasn’t even there. 

A last chance. 

“All right,” Aphra said. “We’re going, right now.” 

“My--my dragons,” Pandaki got out. “My dragons--”

“No, actually, they’re not,” she said, lifting him upright. “That’s what you got wrong, that these dragons were ever _yours._ ”

“My dragons…” A tear appeared in his eye. “My fault.” 

“Now you’re getting somewhere.” Aphra couldn’t deny that she felt some pity for the once-respected doctor, but there was no time to dwell on it. Mirialans were light, and she carried some heavy stuff around most of the time; there was nothing for it. Bending down slightly, she grabbed Pandaki’s legs and arms and, with a gigantic effort, lifted him over her shoulders. 

Okay, so he was heavier than she’d thought, Aphra realized as she almost buckled under his weight. 

Then the dragon roared again. 

Nope. Nothing compared to that. 

Gathering all her strength, Aphra broke into a run and sprinted toward the jungle.

  
  


There was no rest, no stopping, no moment to take in _what the freaking hell_ he’d just witnessed. Vader didn’t allow it. 

But in his current state, Luke couldn’t even protest. He was in shock, something in the back of his head told him, memories of people bitten in half and blood spraying everywhere and bones sticking out of arms on repeat playing over and over in his head. He couldn’t stop them--he wanted to be sick--

The pace Vader set wasn’t helping either. They were almost running. 

“Stop,” he choked out at last. “I need to--I’m going to-- _stop!_ ”

Vader hesitated for precisely one millisecond, and Luke took the opportunity to bend over and hurl the contents of his stomach onto the jungle floor. 

There was a moment where Vader’s presence brushed against his mind, soft and comforting and reassuring--he was imagining that, surely--then the earth shook again. 

Luke straightened, wiping his mouth with a groan. 

They continued on. 

Vader was saying something; that realization pierced the fog in Luke’s brain, and he managed to whisper, “What?”

“My shuttle is just ahead,” Vader rumbled; once again, he actually sounded anxious. This time, Luke couldn’t deny that. “Just beyond the field.”

They were passing the way he and the Rogues had originally come, Luke realized. 

That felt like years ago. 

It took several more moments that what Vader had said had been for the sheer purpose of _reassuring_ him. 

No. No, he wouldn’t have done that. 

But Luke had felt it in the Force. 

_Screw the Force,_ he thought. _Screw everything…_

But he couldn’t deny it. 

There was also something else he couldn’t deny. 

_No. No, no, no, it wasn’t true…_

Then they were beyond the field; Vader’s shuttle was right in front of them. Despite himself, Luke heaved a sigh of relief. 

He felt relief from Vader as well. 

Maybe there would be a bed in there, he thought, something he could lie down on...at the moment it was all he cared about. Whatever else came after. 

_Thud._

Vader slowed. Luke bumped into him, but he hardly noticed. 

“No,” Vader said, as if even he couldn’t believe it. “How is it possible?”

Slowly, they rounded the corner together, and a familiar horned head appeared, followed by the massive, scaly body. 

Somehow, the Greater krayt had gone a different way, unnoticed by either Luke or Vader. How? How had she done it?

It didn’t matter how. 

What mattered was that she was standing beside the squashed ruin of Vader’s shuttle. 

Now Vader froze. 

It was too late. She’d seen them. 

The dragon turned from her quarry, screaming in their general direction--and as she did so, the tail came flying round just as it had before. 

“Luke!” Vader shouted, his hand tightening around his wrist. For the first time, Luke didn’t care. “Hold on--”

Too late. The tail caught both of them, tearing them apart, throwing Vader one way and Luke another. The last thing Luke felt was Vader’s Force presence reaching for him desperately, surrounding him like the protective wings of an angel before he started to fall, past trees and grass and multicolored plants. 

It was like Bespin. 

It was like Bespin, all over again, except that this time there was no one to save him. 

He was going to die. 

He didn’t want to die--

The ground was coming up to meet him--

He was going to die--

“ _Father!”_

Luke screamed the word as he fell, both aloud and into the Force. 

The protective wings surrounded him once again. It was a cushion beneath him, a shield around him, and for one beautiful, shining moment, Luke felt safe. 

The next moment he slammed into the ground, and everything went black. 


	14. Third Iteration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the dragon is not full yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of gory description in this chapter; not near as much as the last chapter, but still. 
> 
> Thanks to my beta, the spectacular KaelinaLovesLomaris, for reading over! Really, guys, she's fantastic.

“ _F_ _ather!”_

The word reached Vader from thousands of feet away, amidst the chaos of falling, and the krayt dragon screaming, and the protesting of his life support as his suit was struck with enough force to destroy the system and kill him. The word pierced through the pain of landing, of falling through sharp, heavy branches and then landing, and echoed around and around and around in his mind. The word gave him the strength to reach out, even unconsciously, even half aware of what he was doing, to save the boy even from this distance. 

He should have fallen unconscious from such a landing, but he didn’t.

His life support systems should have failed, but they didn’t. 

The word, and the person who had screamed it, kept him tethered. 

It was a feeling beyond anything he had ever believed he would experience. 

It was like a prisoner, caught in the dark of a cave for weeks, months, _years_ on end, staring only at the shadows of things and never able to appreciate pure light, real light, had woken suddenly to see a tiny light in through the black walls to which he had grown accustomed. The hole was not large, not anywhere near large enough to bring in all the light; just enough to bring a spark of hope, a spark of remembrance of old things, beautiful things. 

A reason to live again. 

Father. 

_I’m pregnant._

Father. 

_Our baby is a blessing._

_Father._

  
  


Vader opened his eyes. 

He was sitting somewhere in the jungle, in the midst of trees and plants and small creatures on either side of him. Quickly, he gave his suit an assessment. Life support was fine; for some reason he’d thought it had flickered, but it was fine. The heat filtration system was slightly damaged; he could feel some of the humidity seeping in. That was pressing, but he could live with it; it was still filtering out ninety-three percent of the heat, so his skin would not be affected too badly. 

Then came the largest problem. One of the leg prosthetics _was_ damaged; he could tell that he wouldn’t be able to walk on it if it wasn’t fixed. A quick examination showed that several of the electrodes connecting the prosthetic to the rest of him had snapped; if he tried to move, the leg would not follow. That was a problem. 

It was annoying and took several minutes, but he removed the damaged electrodes, removed a frayed wire--that was not absolutely necessary--then reconnected the electrodes to different wires and put them back in. 

That would do for now. 

  
  
  


Now he could move--but to do what? For the moment, he was trying to remember, trying to get past the constant pain in his limbs that, with the help of the fall, had become ten times as painful--

_Father._

A fire was lit in him; the spark returned immediately, as he forced his mind past the disorientation and remembered his sole mission.

_Find Luke._

Luke had called out to _him._ Luke had accepted the truth, whether he liked it or not, and he had called out to his father. 

That thought was quickly punctuated by another. 

Luke was in danger. 

Vader reached out toward where he knew his son’s presence to be, desperate, seeking confirmation--

It was more difficult than usual. 

_No._

Vader focused all his strength, sapped as it was, focused it on finding out whether or not his son was alive, on _finding Luke--_

There. 

Alive, certainly; but unconscious. 

He would not be able to defend himself if the dragon found him. 

Vader reached into the Force again, searching for the dragon; it was close to him, that much he could tell. Not close enough to see him, but close enough that he could sense it. 

With his mechanical systems, as more than half a droid, if he remained still it was entirely possible that the dragon might miss him. Miss him, and move on to Luke. 

Vader just had to find Luke before the dragon did. 

  
  
  


Venka had been walking for about two minutes before the earth exploded.

He had been feeling small tremors, sometimes large, sometimes barely noticeable, ever since he made it out of the underground facility. 

It began like an earthquake, a series of small tremors that made him stop and stand still to keep from falling over; then the tremors escalated in magnitude, growing larger, with fewer intervals in between, until he was knocked over onto the ground. 

Sitting down on the edge of the jungle, he had a perfect view of dirt spraying up from the ground as five people emerged. From here, he could barely make out the doctor. 

They were after him! 

The earthquake had stopped, but the noise didn’t cease; there were screams, more thuds, and the firing of blasters. But Venka didn’t waste any more time. Gasping, he scrambled to his feet, holding the box of eggs tightly, and sprinted for the jungle. 

As he ran, the box began to shake. 

Unfortunately, Venka was too preoccupied to notice. 

  
  
  


Vader moved as fast as he had ever moved, despite the pain and the way his right leg prosthetic kept malfunctioning; none of that mattered, not until he had found Luke. He moved like a man possessed; the Dark Side of the Force had never been stronger with him than that moment. He was going to find Luke, and kill anyone--or anything--that tried to stop him. 

Yet, despite that determination, his speed was no match for the dragon’s. He could hear it approaching, mowing down trees; each sound it made sounded progressively closer. 

He just had to find Luke first. Find Luke, find Luke, that was all he cared about. Afterward, he could think about turning him, could think about a ride off the planet at all, could think about destroying the dragons altogether...but without Luke, all of those things were pointless. 

After, he could deal with those. After. But not now. 

Now he had to find his son. He had to find Luke. He’d felt that intensity before, when he’d crossed the entire facility in a matter of minutes; but then Luke still had not accepted him. Then, he had not known whether Luke would _ever_ accept him. 

But now he had. Now he’d called him by a name Vader had never thought he would hear referred to him in his life. 

Now it was absolutely imperative that he find his child. 

_Thud._

The dragon was close enough that he could feel it, now. 

A drop on his helmet, droplets spattering the countryside of Felucia; it had begun to rain. Soon the earth had turned to mud. 

_Thud._

He was running out of time.

Faster, he ordered himself, willing his prosthetics to carry him even faster, willing the dragon to stay behind. Faster! 

_Thud._

_FASTER!_

Vader reached out, monitoring Luke’s signature; the boy was close, but he was still unconscious, and the jungle showed no signs of thinning. Instead it grew thicker, and deeper, the closer he got to Luke. 

And still the crashing of the dragon behind him grew steadily nearer. 

Now the trees were beginning to thin out; there was more space in between. Upon a sense of the Force, Vader turned left instead of merely forging a path forward; immediately, the sense of Luke’s presence grew stronger. 

He was extremely close. He knew it. 

There was a rare river up ahead; fortunately its current wasn’t very strong. Vader forded it quickly--the flora thinned further, there was more open air--took, on the sense of it, a turn right through the vegetation, climbed a hill, looked down--and there, at its base, lying half on his face, was Luke. 

Vader was at his side in an instant; the earth was thick already with mud from the rain, but he didn’t care. He took hold of Luke’s shoulder and shook him. 

There was no response. 

“Luke,” he hissed. “Wake up!” 

Luke let out a soft moan, but otherwise he didn’t stir. 

Vader shook him more harshly; Luke would thank him later. “This is no time for rest. We have _seconds._ You _must_ wake up!” 

“Nngh,” Luke mumbled into the ground.

But not even his demands could rouse Luke at the moment. Vader understood it, of course; the boy had been thrown a great distance and was most likely concussed, but unfortunately krayt dragons did not wait for their victims to wake up. Regardless of Luke’s condition, they needed to run. 

Vader clenched his fist in frustration, wondering what to do. There was one more option, but he had no conception of how to do it in a remotely paternal way. He had not had the opportunity to be gentle with anyone in years; he could not think of how to do it. 

_Thud._

They were out of time. He had to do it, regardless of how painful it was for Luke. Quickly, he touched his fingers to Luke’s forehead, slammed all his strength against Luke’s mind, and demanded, “ _Wake!”_

Luke’s eyes flew open with a gasp.

“What--” He coughed and spat out mud and sat up, looking incredibly disoriented. “What the--”

“Up.” Luke would have no time to get reacquainted with his surroundings; Vader seized his arm and lifted him to his feet. It became clear immediately that his hand was the only thing holding Luke upright; his son swayed and staggered. 

“Where…” He frowned, focusing on Vader, and then his eyes went wide; now he knew who was there with him. “Fa--Vader.” 

So he had admitted it, but he didn’t want to believe he’d admitted it. 

A tiny step forward. 

But that was for later. Luke’s eyes were already starting to slide closed again; clearly, he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep. Vader would not allow it. He took hold of both Luke’s shoulders and shook him harshly until his eyes opened. 

“The dragon is here,” he said. “We must run _now,_ do you understand?”

“The dragon,” Luke echoed. He cast his gaze dreamily around, taking in the land around them. Then his eyes widened. “The...the dragon!” 

He remembered. Finally. 

_Thud._

Oh, no. No, not yet, he’d just found Luke--

_Thud._

“We have no time,” Vader said. “Follow me.”

He broke forward into a run, pulling Luke with him. Maybe his son had worse things to worry about than his father at the moment, and maybe he was concussed and barely awake, and maybe there was no kind of transportation off the planet at present, but under all those circumstances, Luke would _still_ find a way to escape Vader, somehow. 

And this time, Vader knew that that would not happen. 

He was not letting Luke out of his sight. Ever. Again. 

As they ran, Luke let out a pained gasp; for a moment, Vader wondered if his temporary intrusion into Luke’s mind had actually done something to him, but there wasn’t even a chance that they could stop. 

“What is wrong?” Vader demanded. 

Luke didn’t answer. Maybe he was too focused on running; but a higher probability was that he did not trust his father with an answer. 

In any case, they had seconds to escape, if that. The dragon was behind them, and gradually gaining speed. Vader was using the Force to both heighten his own speed and slow down the dragon, but there was only so much even he could do, especially with Luke injured and concussed. 

“There!” Luke shouted, pointing with his free hand. 

Vader saw it too; the end of the jungle was up ahead. He could tell by the way light filtered in, the way the trees were scarce. Fortunately, the dragon was still very much in the jungle, and her larger shape was slowed by the trees. 

Suddenly, Luke went down; Vader stopped. But it was only a root in the ground, he’d tripped over it. 

Gasping, Luke hauled himself back to his feet. “I’m okay, go!”

His determination was admirable, Vader thought as he pulled Luke forward, using the Force to bend trees and plants out of the way, to continue to keep the dragon at a slow pace; beyond that there wasn’t much he could do. If only Luke were willing to use the Dark Side; then, they would be invincible. But for now, he would have to protect them both. 

The last trees bent out of the way, rain fell down on them both, the mud pulled at their feet but at last they broke free of the jungle, sprinted ahead, fearing the arrival of the dragon--

And stopped. 

Dead ahead was a steep cliff. Some distance below that, a waterfall that fell into a long river. 

And beyond that, more jungle; the larger, deeper part. Perhaps the trees here had been cut down, long ago; perhaps not. But whatever the reason, what Vader knew of Felucia told him that would be the perfect place to hide from the dragon. 

“Jump,” he told Luke. 

But Luke’s eyes were wide with fear. Mutely, he shook his head. Maybe, Vader reasoned, he was still in shock from the events of the day, still disoriented from his fall. 

_Thud._

“Luke, _jump!_ ” Vader snapped. 

“I…” Luke’s lips moved silently for a few seconds as he stared down at the water. “I...I can’t.” 

“You _must,”_ Vader snarled, pulling Luke forward--

“No! I can’t, stop, _I can’t_!” Luke sounded as panicked as he had on Bespin, after...hearing the truth, and that more than anything made Vader stop. Luke was staring straight ahead, his body racked with small, constant tremors. “I can’t, I can’t--”

_Thud._

“You have no choice,” Vader told him, but at this point he didn’t think the fall was to blame for this. “The dragon--”

“I don’t care, I _can’t swim!”_

Well. He had certainly not expected to hear _that._

“What?” He gripped Luke’s arm tighter, forcing him to look up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I-I mean what I said,” Luke stammered. “I can’t swim, I grew up on Tatooine--”

_Thud._

“And yet you have not been there for three years. Why have you not learned to swim since?”

“Well--well, I did a couple strokes, Han taught me on…” Luke swallowed. “On one of the planets we were on once, but we didn’t stay there long, I didn’t--”

“But you understand the basic concept.” 

_Thud._

“Well, well, yeah, but I--I’ve never--”

Clearly, Luke had a phobia of deep water; but it did not matter. They had to jump. It was not Vader’s ideal choice, either, by any means. He could swim well, but it required great strength to stay afloat; his suit altogether weighted around three hundred pounds. But the dragon was coming, so they had no other choice. Also, since the storm had begun to abate, it would not be as dangerous to be in the water. 

“Luke, I do not care whether or not you are afraid--” Vader started. 

Luke’s head snapped up at him. “I’m not afraid!” 

THUD. 

With a crash and a trumpeting roar that made Luke slam both his hands over his ears, the dragon emerged from the jungle. She was covered in mud and rain, one of her horns was broken from ramming through so many trees, and she was very, very, _very_ angry.

“Jump,” Vader said again.

She charged. 

“I--” Luke looked at the water, then at the dragon, then back at the water; he was shaking. Something in Vader surged, something deep and innate and...unfamiliar. He couldn’t put a name to it. “I don’t--”

“NOW!” Before Luke could protest, Vader lifted him with the Force and threw him. Luke let out a scream as he fell, one hand outstretched toward the cliff-- _toward Vader--_ as if he could bring himself back. 

_“Join me.”_

_Luke looks down--he sees the fall. He understands, then, that if he lets go he will die. He will not prefer that to joining his father, despite Obi-Wan’s corruption of him; Vader can see it._

_But for good measure, he adds something else; just in case. “It is the only way.”_

_Luke looks up at Vader, almost rebelliously; the first spark of defiance Vader has seen in him since telling him the truth. It unsettles him...and gives him pride._

_And then Luke lets go._

_He falls, thousands upon thousands of feet, to his death...Vader will never see him again…_

No. It wouldn’t be like that this time. 

The dragon was seconds away from him, but Vader watched, making sure that Luke would not strike any rocks, guiding him a little with the Force; his presence was wrapped securely around Luke. His son would not die today. 

The dragon was almost within touching distance; Vader was barely standing now, the ground shaking terribly under him with the force of the running dragon. And yet, something gave him pleasure to wait, to make the dragon feel triumphant, her prey within reach. 

The dragon opened her jaws--

And Vader leaped from the cliff. 

  
  


For a few seconds, all Luke felt was abject terror. 

He wasn’t afraid of heights; he had never been afraid of heights. He had never experienced a single moment of fear taking off into an X-Wing; he’d performed daring feats in space, and in the skies of planets, all without a moment’s hesitation. But seeing the deep water below him, _knowing_ he couldn’t swim in it, knowing he’d almost drowned before, in a dogfight that had gotten him shot out of the sky and into an ocean on a planet below, remembering not being able to swim and the suffocating feeling of the water--

He knew the dragon had been right behind them. He knew she would have eaten both of them, in one of the most painful deaths that could exist, but somehow he wasn’t able to separate that from the terror of not being able to swim--

And Vader had done it, Vader had just thrown him off the cliff without a second thought--

But he’d been right to do it, of course he had, but the water was nearing and Luke wasn’t strong enough in the Force to do anything, and he was going to drown. 

Those thoughts all passed through his mind in the space of a few seconds. 

Then--just like before, when he’d been struck by the dragon’s tail--Vader’s presence surrounded him. Not as fiercely, as before, but enough to slow the fall, to guide him away from some sharp rocks. Luke was too in shock to feel anything else. 

The water came closer, and closer, and then he was in the river. The current immediately dragged him under, despite his best attempts to stay above the surface. Desperately, he tried to remember the few strokes Han had taught him, but his mind was too panicked to think of anything, and his arms flailed in the water--his lungs were burning, he wanted to breathe--

Then a hand on the back of his jacket, and he was dragged above the water. Luke gasped in several breaths, only afterward taking stock of his surroundings. Vader. Vader had him. Somehow the Sith was able to swim in that suit, Luke thought numbly as he was dragged across the river to the other side. 

Once he was lying on the bank, soaked wet and shivering, Luke remembered the dragon. Krayts came from Tatooine, but that was no guarantee that they couldn’t swim. 

Anxiously, he raised his eyes to the cliff. 

The dragon stood at the edge, probably as close as she could get without falling, simply looking down at them. She knew she couldn’t swim, and she did not appear happy about it. Her dark, reptilian eyes stared directly at Luke. 

_I’ll find you later,_ they seemed to be saying. _You can’t escape me._

That chilled him to the bone; and it also reminded him of someone else. 

Slowly, Luke looked over at Vader, who sat beside him. The Sith Lord wasn’t looking at him, so he shifted several inches away. He’d never realized it before, but Darth Vader was not very unlike a dragon. 

What did that mean for him, then? That he’d escaped one greater dragon for a lesser one? 

That was also the first time he’d thought of Vader as being _lesser_ than anything. Luke kept it to himself. He didn’t think Vader would like the idea very much. 

The dragon stared at them for a long time; neither she nor Vader nor Luke moved. It was a battle of wills, between three very dangerous opponents. At last the dragon seemed to understand that she had lost this battle. As the rain drizzled down gently, she lifted her head back and roared. It was a roar louder than any that Luke had heard from her thus far, chilling and bloodcurdling and piercing; he clapped both hands over his ears, unable to stand the sound. 

Then, the Greater krayt dragon turned and walked away, her thundering footsteps gradually fading into small tremors, and then silence. 

  
  


Aphra ran, and she ran, and she ran. Pandaki was heavy, but it didn’t matter; all Aphra knew was that they could not be caught by the dragon. She ran until she had no strength left, and then she set her jaw and ran more, nothing but absolute fear keeping her on her feet. She ran as long as she could feel any tremor in the earth, as long as she could hear screaming and--occasionally--a roar. 

“Stop,” Pandaki gasped at last from her shoulders. “Stop--stop!” 

Aphra hesitated, her back screaming at her. “What?”

“My arm,” Pandaki said. “It’s my arm. We need to stop.”

Aphra waited, listening for some sound, but she could hear nothing. They were as far away as they could get, she supposed, so as her muscles threatened to tear, she slowly eased Pandaki off her shoulders. She almost dropped him when he was half on the ground; with a gasp, she managed to keep upright and settle him, very roughly, on the jungle floor before falling to her knees with a cry of pain. 

“That...that was too much for you,” Pandaki said quietly. “You shouldn’t have done that.” 

“Oh, shut up,” Aphra said, fed up with feeling bad for people. Instead, she examined his arm; he really had bled through the bandage Luke had put on the wound. “Damn, that’s not good.” 

“I tried to ignore it,” Pandaki said with a small laugh. “I think it...it may be infected--”

He let out a cry. Aphra had peeled back the bandage, and it pulled at his skin. 

“No shit,” she said, looking at the arm. Ignoring the horror of some of the muscle and bone sticking out of the arm, the skin surrounding the wound was red; and what was worse, it had begun to ooze yellow pus. “Of course it’s infected.”

“Well, it hasn’t been cleaned,” Pandaki said, looking up at the sky. Smart of him. Aphra didn’t want him throwing up all over her. 

“No, that doesn’t matter,” she said. “Dragon saliva has serotonin, it’s painful to a wound and if the wound is deep enough it can infect it.” Aphra frowned, wondering what she should do next. Somehow, she had to amputate the arm above the point where the dragon had bitten it; that bone and muscle was a ruined mass of flesh that would have to be gotten rid of, and in any case she had to stop the infection from spreading. Probably have to cut the arm off above the elbow, but how to do that was the question. 

The next question was how Pandaki would react to it. 

“Doctor,” she said carefully, “would you be averse to...having this amputated?”

Pandaki’s eyes went wide, but other than that he had no reaction. “I assume it would be best; the wound is infected.”

Good. His earlier panic was gone, or at least had lessened. 

“But we can’t do it here.” Aphra cast a nervous glance around; there was the matter of the other dinosaur that had gotten into the jungle. “There’s no telling if one of your freak monsters is going to show up again.”

Pandaki sighed. “They’re not--”

“You have no right to complain about what I call them, it’s your fault they even exist.” Aphra replaced the makeshift bandage and helped Pandaki to his feet. “Come on, let’s find somewhere safe.” She shook her head. “If such a place even exists with a bunch of krayt dragons running around.”

  
  


Felucia looked beautiful as ever. 

Below the shuttle piloted by Veers, Piett could see rows of multicolored plants, blues and greens and pinks and yellows; fields of green grass spread out; a silver moon hung low. It was a paradise. 

And yet, like any paradise, a darkness lurked underneath. 

“Where did Lord Vader say he was going?” Veers asked him. 

“I don’t know for certain,” Piett said, “but the hospital was once the laboratory. He may have started there.”

“I’ll make for that, then.” Veers turned, steering the shuttle smoothly toward the long gray building in the distance. “How did you know?”

“Venka complained to me.” 

Veers offered him a wry grin. “I should’ve guessed. We’re gonna get that smug little bastard, one way or another.” 

Piett didn’t respond to that. Something else had caught his attention. 

“What is it?” Veers looked up, and his eyes went wide. “What...what in the galaxy…”

Just beyond the hospital was a gigantic hole in the earth, large enough for a meteor to have landed; except there were none of the telltale signs of, well, fire and explosions and general destruction of land. Instead, there was a curious substance spattered along the ground. 

The substance was red. It was blood. 

“Stop the shuttle,” Piett said. “Max! Stop!”

Slowly, Veers seemed to come out of a fog. Pulling up on the throttle, he landed the shuttle sharply; it skidded briefly along the earth before coming to a stop. 

Immediately, Piett turned and bolted down the ramp, Veers on his heels. 

Outside the shuttle, something terrible had clearly happened. The earth, for one, had exploded, as previously observed; but it looked as though some creature had done it. There were gigantic tracks in the earth, followed by much, much smaller ones; human footprints. Then, several yards away, drops of blood were scattered along the ground. 

Piett began to follow them. 

“Firmus, don’t,” Veers called after him, but there was no answer. With a sigh, he jogged after him. 

This was by far the most disturbing thing Piett had seen in a long time. The drops of blood grew gradually larger, becoming a trail, and then a pool of blood that…

Piett put a hand to his mouth. 

A pool, dotted with small pieces of human flesh. 

Horrified, he turned to look at his friend.

“Max,” he said, his voice shaking slightly, “what..." He swallowed, staring at the carnage around him.

More torn flesh, scattered across the landscape. 

Ripped, ravished earth, Mother Nature gone insane.

A long, thin bone; maybe part of someone's humerus.

And yet somehow, Piett couldn't take his eyes away.

"What the hell happened here?" he whispered. 

  
  


“Attention.” The female voice was back, echoing out of the speaker in every resident’s room. “There has been a disturbance outside the premises. This has nothing to do with the hospital; please, do not panic. Everything is fine. This is not a hospital-related problem.” 

“I wish she’d stop talking,” Grandmother muttered from her bed. “Clearly, they just don’t know anything yet.” 

“Calm down, Mother,” Ruya’s mama said. “They’re trying to figure it out.”

“This would happen all the time in the Republic,” Grandmother said, and now Ruya was intrigued; no one ever mentioned the Republic, a subject about which she was endlessly curious. “Something would happen, with the war or political rivalries or something, and we would hear nothing about it. So stupid.”

Mama seemed to guess that Ruya was interested, and she moved to help Grandmother lay back down. “Mother, don’t talk about that.” 

Grandmother pressed her lips together. "Well, all right. But in any case I don't have too much longer to live, so if the Empire decides to have me offed, they know where to find me."

Papa gasped. "Jobal!" 

Ruya tried to smother her laughter. She loved it when Grandmother was sassy like that; her parents, quite clearly, did not. 

"All right, all right." With a small cough, Grandmother closed her eyes. "But I doubt I'll fall asleep until we get any news." 

"You stay your cranky self, and we'll be right back," Mother said fondly. "Ruya, would you like to come?"

"No, thank you," said Ruya, pretending to smother a yawn; when one was a child, one yawn was more effective than a thousand well-rehearsed lies. 

"Oh, of course, you're exhausted." Mama bent down to kiss Ruya on the forehead; Ruya squirmed, but tolerated it. "We'll be back soon, we just have to visit with the doctor. Have a good night." 

Ruya put on a sweet smile. "Okay, Mama."

Papa pulled a blanket over her, and then he and Mama left. But even then Ruya didn't dare move. Grandmother was awake for a long time, muttering to herself about things Ruya could barely hear. 

But at last the muttering stopped. 

And then a curious sound reached her. Deep, soft rumbles. Snoring. 

Grandmother was well and truly asleep. 

Ruya moved very slowly, removing the blanket from her chest inch by inch and setting it on a nearby table. She watched her grandmother; the woman hadn’t moved. Ruya counted to five, and then stood up, froze as the chair creaked--but Grandmother’s snoring continued on. Emboldened by her success, Ruya tiptoed across the room toward the window, seized her papa’s blaster that was sitting on a nearby chair, and fastened it to her belt. 

Then she slid the window up. 

Grandmother still didn’t stir. 

Now came the escape. Ruya couldn’t deny that she felt more than a little terrified as she climbed out the window onto the balcony outside, shut the window behind her, and began to climb down. 

She didn’t know what was going on, but she did know that Luke Skywalker was in trouble, and she was going to help him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Ruya's parents are absolutely every stereotypical '80s parent who has no clue what their kids are up to and thinks they're darling little angels.


	15. Hiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things sort of start to calm down just a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a brief description of an awful wound here, that's about it for this chapter. 
> 
> Also, thanks as always to my beta, the fantabulous KaelinaLovesLomaris!

For several minutes, Luke sat in shock as the dragon walked away, footsteps echoing even from where he and Vader were sitting on the bank of the river. With every thud, it was impossible not to think of running in terror inside the facility, turning around to see it right behind him--

_ Thud.  _

All but ripping off Doctor Pandaki’s arm. 

_ Thud.  _

Hovering over Luke, breath inches from his face, eyes staring down at him, the teeth twice as long as his entire arm--

_ Thud.  _

Seizing Dravos’ entire torso, squeezing, the Twi’lek’s flesh and blood spattering everywhere--

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder. Luke jumped. 

“She has gone,” Vader said, and Luke was brought back to the reality of his  _ other  _ bad situation. “And we must leave, immediately.” 

Luke stood on shaking legs, shivering from the cold of the water. Vader stood as well, slightly behind him and to his right; his hand hadn’t left Luke’s shoulder. It felt oppressive like some sort of chain, and he made an attempt to shake it off. It didn’t work; the fingers, hard as durasteel, clamped down harder. 

“You can let go, you know,” he snapped, turning around to glare at his...ugh! It was getting harder and harder to deny what something deep inside him already knew to be true. “I’m not going to run.”

“Even if I believed that, at present I do not trust that you will not run away,” Vader’s voice came from behind him, harsh and cold. “You have escaped me too many times in the last day for me to believe any of your excuses.”

“They’re not--” How could Luke explain it? That Vader, with his vague animalistic shape and predatory instincts, reminded him too much of a dragon for his own comfort? That being this close to him was giving Luke constant flashbacks of Bespin? That the mere action of Vader touching him sent phantom pains shooting through his right wrist? How could he explain  _ any _ of that? “Listen, if I promise not to run will you let go?”

“Promises are easily broken,” Vader said, but his grip loosened slightly. 

“Maybe in the Empire they are,” Luke said, staring straight ahead. “For what it’s worth,  _ I _ never break my promises.” 

Luke felt Vader shift behind him, and he had the vague impression that the man was looking directly at him; he kept himself rigid, still staring ahead, not wanting to turn around and find himself looking up into those insectoid eye plates. 

“I will hold you to that,” Vader said at last, slowly removing his hand from Luke’s shoulder. 

Luke heaved a sigh of relief. 

“But be warned,” Vader said, coming to stand directly in front of him, “that if you run--”

“You won’t be pleased,” Luke said, anxious for the conversation to end. “I get it.”

But that seemed to enrage Vader even more. 

“Rest assured, young one, it will be worse than that,” he rumbled darkly. “Far worse.” Vader seemed to hesitate a moment, as if wondering whether to leave the conversation at that. Then, quickly, he added: “If you run, you may end up lacking another hand.”

With that said, he spun around and began walking toward the jungle. 

Dread and terror pooled together in Luke’s stomach. Phantom pain  _ stabbed  _ in his wrist, this time, and he clutched his prosthetic to his chest. As if that could do anything. 

“Follow me,” Vader said sharply, turning briefly to address Luke, “if you do not wish to die.”

  
  


Aphra had at last found a spot safe enough from the krayt dragons. What she had done was go  _ away  _ from the hospital and the underground facility; that was the danger zone, and the farther they got from that the better. She had wanted to try to find a way out of the jungle altogether, but she knew that Pandaki would never manage that. The doctor could walk all right, but he had already lost a lot of blood; she needed to get his arm taken care of as soon as possible, and then find him somewhere he could rest. 

Fortunately, after Aphra had taken this path for a quarter of an hour, the ground turned wet and sticky; they were near some sort of water. She could smell it. And sure enough, just through a wall of trees was a small lake. 

“We’ll do it here,” she said, helping Pandaki to sit. “The dragons don’t like water.” 

“Of course not, but we’re not in it,” Pandaki snapped; his eyes were slightly unfocused. He was getting worse. “They could still--”

“Hey, I know that, okay?” Aphra regretted her tone, especially considering the doctor’s current state; but she’d leave the unnecessary compassion to Luke Skywalker. She still wasn’t happy with him. “This is the best I can give you if I want to save your arm.” 

Pandaki nodded. 

“Now, I’m not even sure what I have.” Aphra rummaged around in her bag before finding a sharp Mandalorian knife, two and a half feet long and obsidian black. 

Carefully, she laid it out in front of Pandaki. 

The doctor barely restrained a wince. 

_ He’s been remarkably calm about this,  _ she thought, continuing to search. She had thought she’d brought a vibroblade, but she couldn’t find it anywhere on her. Maybe she’d forgotten to take it back when their weapons had been stripped from them. 

But that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that she couldn’t find any painkiller. 

Aphra searched, and searched, and searched, throwing multiple bottles and notes and even an animal bone or two onto the ground, but there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

She was starting to feel a lot of sympathy for Pandaki. 

He leaned forward. “What’s the problem?”

“Well, uh…” Aphra wiped the sweat off of her forehead. “Well, we’ve got a slight, uh--” She cleared her throat. “A slight...issue, here, that might be a little bit of a, uh, problem. For you, not for me. The thing is--”

Pandaki sighed. “Tell me.” 

“I don’t have any painkillers,” Aphra blurted out. “I’ll have to amputate it...without giving you any.” 

Pandaki went white; his eyes went even wider, and his limbs began to shake. Aphra was wondering if she’d just have to kill him as a mercy when his breathing slowed, bit by bit; his face returned to its normal color--normal for Mirialans in any case--and something new entered his eyes. 

Resignation. 

It was sad to see from someone who, a few hours ago, had been so enthusiastic.

“Well,” he said. “I suppose I deserve this anyway, for what I’ve done.” 

It was the first lick of remorse Aphra had gotten from him, and it surprised her. So much, in fact, that she started to wonder if maybe she’d been too unforgiving with him. 

No, of course not. He’d engineered krayt dragons in a lab, which were now loose. 

All the same though, she might try being a  _ little _ nicer, she decided. 

“All right,” she said, hunting around in her bag for some sort of object before pulling out an ancient Tusken talisman. “Hold this in your other hand. It’ll distract you.” 

Pandaki did so. 

But even that wasn’t enough, so next Aphra hunted around behind her before finding a piece of tree bark. “Put this between your teeth and clench down on it.” 

Pandaki did so. His face had gone white again. 

“That’s…” Aphra sighed. “That’s all I can do.” 

Pandaki nodded; then, seeming to realize something, he sat up. 

“Wait a minute,” he said, before putting the bark in his mouth. “Have you done this before? Do you, remotely, have  _ any idea  _ what you’re doing?” 

Aphra stared at him. 

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” she said at last. “You think I’ve only been half a criminal my entire life?”

“ _ Half  _ a criminal?”

“I have done it, a couple times,” Aphra said, “and I do know what I’m doing.” 

Pandaki nodded again. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said, before putting the bark in his mouth. 

The first thing Aphra did was clean the knife. Twice. She wasn’t stupid. 

Then, slowly, very slowly, she unwrapped the arm. 

She almost recoiled. It looked worse than before. The upper arm was almost completely intact, but at the elbow, there were little ribbons of skin torn off. An inch below the elbow, most of the skin was gone, and the muscle that it revealed was bright red and oozing green pus; and from there down to where the wrist  _ would have been  _ was an awful, terrible mess of ruined muscle and half-broken bones sticking out from the elbow, and _more_ pus, and thick, dark clots of blood that spilled out onto the ground. 

Aphra tried not to throw up. 

“All right,” she said, letting out a long breath. “Here goes nothing.” 

  
  


It was raining outside, and it was dark. Those two things should have deterred Ruya immediately, but they didn’t. Luke Skywalker had  _ saved  _ her, like a hero straight out of her fairy stories; they’d been cornered with no way out and then  _ bam!  _ He’d knocked Darth Vader, the most powerful creature in the galaxy, backward by raising his hands. He’d saved her, and then he’d run outside; and some kind of monster was loose now. So she was going to save him back. 

Maybe it was Darth Vader, she thought with a shudder. Maybe if you got powerful enough with the Force--at least the evil part of the Force--you could turn into a kind of monster. Maybe it was him, and maybe he was trying to kill Luke. 

So Ruya pressed on through the rain, heading away from the hospital toward the jungle. She had been afraid someone would stop her; but no one did. Maybe it was commonplace on Felucia for children to wander places alone. Not a very safe policy--but it was helping her get where she wanted. She made it to the edge of the field just beyond the hospital, completely undetected. 

Then she stopped. 

Where was she supposed to go next? 

She had no idea where Luke was, she realized; only that Luke was somewhere out here, alone. But she’d just seen the creatures from her grandmother’s room. Where were they now? 

Instead there was only a bunch of torn-up dirt. 

_ Thud-thud-thud.  _

The ground shook; taken by surprise, Ruya fell down. The creature, it must be the creatures who’d attacked Luke! Frightened, she looked all round her, searching; but she couldn’t see anything. 

_ Thud-thud-thud.  _

The thuds were going away, she realized. They were going away from her. 

Into the jungle. 

Maybe towards Luke? 

_ I have a blaster,  _ Ruya told herself. Papa always said if she had a blaster, she was one hundred percent safer than anyone who didn’t.  _ I have a blaster and I’ll be okay.  _

Taking a deep breath, she got to her feet and ran into the jungle. 

  
  


“How much farther are we going to walk?”

Luke’s voice sounded weak, Vader realized; it was something he could understand, given what the boy had been through. He’d watched dragons eat people alive, had been thrown through the air by a dragon, was probably injured, and had jumped--or, rather, been tossed--into water and was soaking wet. Beyond that, Vader knew that Luke had been exhausted ever since they had begun walking; that had been an hour ago. The fact that Luke was only complaining  _ now,  _ given his stubbornness, meant that he was ready to collapse. He needed rest. 

But he couldn’t have it. Not quite yet. 

Vader stopped, waiting for Luke to catch up to him before speaking. “We are going to continue for a little longer. I have not yet found a suitable tree for us to take rest in.”

“A tree?” Luke sounded surprised. “We’re sleeping in a tree?”

That statement was alarming. Had his son never climbed a tree, either? Was it enough for him not to be able to  _ swim? _

“I hope,” Vader said icily, turning around to address him, “that you have climbed trees before, and are not saying this to me out of fear of  _ that. _ ”

Luke opened his mouth; then shut it again as he seemed to realize what Vader was getting at. Then opened it again. 

“Are you kidding me?” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You jump to so many conclusions! Just because I don’t know how to do  _ one thing  _ does not mean I don’t know how to do anything!”

“It is a perfectly logical assumption,” Vader said, frustrated at just how  _ obstinate _ Luke was turning out to be. “How should I have known you did not know how to swim?”

“I grew up on Tatooine!” Luke shot back. He seemed to have no end of retorts. “Look, I know you don’t know much about me, but you should’ve at least known--”

“I  _ did  _ know that, young one. I--”

“Don’t call me that,” Luke muttered. 

Vader ignored him. “I did know that you were raised on Tatooine, but as I recall, there is a shortage of both water and trees there. How in the galaxy would you know how to climb trees but not how to swim?”

“Because I’m not afraid of heights,” Luke snapped, walking past Vader. 

There was nothing so frustrating as arguing with someone whose arguments were weaker and more fallacious than one’s own, and who believed in them whole-heartedly. Vader stormed after him. 

“And yet you are afraid of water,” he persisted, catching up to Luke quickly.

Luke stopped walking and spun around. “Look, can you just give it a rest? Geez, what the hell is the big deal with me not swimming?”

It was clear that being raised on Tatooine by two spineless farmers and joining a Rebellion that had almost no principles had combined to give Luke a defiant attitude that was most unbecoming. Seizing Luke by the right wrist had worked before to make him listen, so Vader did it again. 

Sure enough, Luke’s entire body tensed, and the look of fury in his eyes was replaced by fear. 

“The matter of your ability to swim is a ‘big deal,’ as you say, because it affects your survival,” Vader snapped. “The galaxy is filled with planets that have a variety of climates, and you have a majority of experience with only one of them.”

“I survived on Hoth,” Luke said, but his voice was lacking its recent bravado. 

Beyond that, Vader had heard from a spy--quite recently--what exactly had happened on Hoth.  _ They brought him in half dead,  _ the spy had said,  _ his face was all mauled, his skin absolutely frozen stiff.  _

And, now that he was looking at Luke up close, he could see the faint remnants of the scars, lining his upper lip and the right side of his face. 

“Do not even  _ mention  _ Hoth,” Vader snarled. “I have heard from a valuable source that you nearly died during a mere search for probes. You were not ready for an arctic climate. You were not ready for subtropical climates, as found on Yavin 4. You were not ready for the tropical rainforest climate, as found here--”

“Just  _ shut up, _ ” Luke said, yanking himself backward; but for the moment, Vader did not let him go. “Shut the hell up--”

“Do not use that language around me,” Vader told him. 

That had clearly been the wrong tactic; Luke rolled his eyes. “Okay, like you have any say in what comes out of my mouth--”

“Actually, I  _ do. _ ” Vader pulled Luke a stumbling step closer to him; once again, his son resisted, tried to yank himself away, but he was not strong enough. “I am your father.” Luke opened his mouth, clearly about to retort; so he pressed on. “You cannot deny it. You  _ have  _ accepted it, and are trying to convince yourself that you have not.” 

Luke didn’t say anything. He was just staring up at Vader, open-mouthed; those words seemed to have effectively shut him up. 

Vader was surprised. Had that actually worked? 

“Let us continue,” he said, letting go of Luke’s wrist and turning back to face the jungle. He kept ready, mask turned just enough so that he would know the second Luke bolted. 

But his son began to walk, slowly. The boy only appeared in shock; he’d gone back to weary and exhausted, just the same as before. Vader was relieved, and yet, a part of him was disappointed. There was something in him that had  _ enjoyed  _ actually talking to Luke; he had been without his son for nearly twenty-three years, and he had no idea what the boy was actually like. 

That should not matter to him, he told himself. It shouldn’t matter at all. What mattered was whether or not it would be possible for him to become a Sith...

“It should not be far,” he found himself saying; Luke had probably been injured. That would help him to continue walking with the hope of rest. “We are deep into the jungle now.” 

There was no response from Luke. The boy was tired, Vader reasoned; tired, and cold, and injured, and it was better if he did not respond. 

They walked for several minutes in silence, Vader going more slowly than he usually would for Luke’s sake. The Force did not give him a perfect sense of where the dragon were; they were only semi-sentient, so his sense of them was nowhere near clear. But he could guess at where they were, and from his estimate, there were no dragons anywhere near them. They were almost there. 

“You asked me why,” came a small voice from behind him, and Vader stopped, turning around to look at Luke, who was not being very successful at hiding his shivering. 

“Why,” Vader echoed. “Why,  _ what? _ ”

“In the facility,” Luke said, “you asked me why I hadn’t accepted…” A spasm passed over his face. “Hadn’t accepted...what you told me.” 

“Yes,” Vader said; he did remember that now. So many things had happened that it was becoming difficult to keep track of it as one day. “Do you have a reason?”

“Yeah,” Luke said, but he didn’t continue. 

Vader could sense that he was afraid; he thought he would be punished, or something like that, for saying what he was about to say. Vader made an effort to rein in his anger; this could be important for estimating the best way to turn him. 

“Speak,” he said. “There is nothing to fear. I will not harm you.” 

“You won’t  _ harm me? _ ” Luke gave a bitter laugh that took Vader aback. “That’s the entire point!”

“The  _ point. _ ” Vader still didn’t see what he was getting at. “Explain.”

“My whole reason for not believing you,” Luke said fiercely. “You keep saying you won’t hurt me, I don’t have to be afraid of you. But you  _ did _ hurt me, don’t you get it?”

“Do not mention the hand again,” Vader said sharply. “Look at me. Do you imagine losing  _ one hand  _ is the worst fate that can befall you? I--”

“I’m not  _ talking  _ about the hand,” Luke cut him off. That was fury in his eyes, absolute burning fury. “I mean, I am, but that’s the tip of the iceberg! How about how you absolutely beat the nine hells out of me in that fight, how you pushed me until I had nothing left? How about how you captured my friends? How about the way you  _ tortured  _ Han, someone who didn’t even mean anything to you--”

“He is part of the Rebellion,” Vader snapped. “He has been instrumental in multiple Imperial losses; you know this.” 

“Yeah, so have about a hundred other Rebels!” Luke exclaimed, his voice shrill. He was deeply angry about this, Vader realized; he had been, for weeks, and it was all spilling out of him now. “But he was special, wasn’t he? Because he was my friend. And of course, every good father captures his kid’s friends and tortures them  _ specifically  _ for the purpose of psychologically torturing  _ him,  _ isn’t that right--”

Now Luke was twisting what he had done, he was putting words in Vader’s mouth. Vader had remained silent up to this time, content to let Luke erupt, but that was too far. 

“It was not psychological torture,” he declared. “It was solely for the purpose of drawing you to me. Whether you choose to interpret that as torture is your choice, but--”

“Oh, bantha  _ shit! _ ” Luke snarled, the viciousness in his voice taking Vader by surprise. “You can’t do something absolutely awful and then frame it against me! It’s not how I’m interpreting it, it’s  _ what you did!  _ Maybe it was ‘solely for the purpose of drawing me to you,’ but the fact is that they are my friends. Han and Leia and Chewie and C-3PO are  _ my Force-damned friends,  _ they are  _ my family,  _ and you tortured them!” 

His  _ family? _ Those  _ Rebels,  _ the people who’d drawn Luke so far down the path of defiance that he might never get him back-- _ his _ family, as opposed to his real father? 

Vader saw red. 

“ _ I  _ am your family, boy,” he roared, ignoring the terror that flashed through Luke’s eyes. “How  _ dare _ you insinuate that those violent insurgents, that a terrorist Princess and two low-life smugglers--”

“Well, they showed me more kindness than  _ you  _ ever did,” Luke shot back. “There’s a lot you don’t know about them! But that’s beside the point. My  _ point  _ is that one day you were my enemy. One day you were a monster, and you did everything that monsters do; and then, without changing  _ one single aspect  _ of everything that made you a monster, you told me you were my father.”

“Because you deserved to know it,” Vader said. “Obi-Wan--”

“Listen, I know he lied to me! I know all that! Do you think I’m not angry about that, too? I am! But the thing is--” 

He broke off, clutching his abdomen. 

“What is it?” Vader demanded, forgetting the conversation instantly. “Are you injured?”

“It’s…” Even this, Luke was reluctant to tell him. “It’s my ribs. I think a couple of them are cracked.” 

The dragon had hurt him after all. Vader felt a need to kill it. 

“Allow me,” he said, reaching out--but Luke jerked backward, still clutching his hand to his chest. 

“Don’t say you won’t hurt me,” he said. “Don’t say I have nothing to fear from you, because I  _ do. _ ”

“Do not make this about our earlier conversation,” Vader said. “This is more serious. You have been injured, and I can help you heal.” 

But Luke still stayed at a distance, glaring at him. 

“Let us continue,” he said at last, turning back. “Here is our tree.” 

They were standing in front of a gigantic tree, taller than most of the others they had come across, with large, gnarled branches twisting and turning and weaving their way up to a fork about halfway to the top. It was not perfect, but it would be sufficient. 

Vader turned to Luke. “Climb.” 

Surely the boy couldn’t protest  _ that _ \--and yet, immediately, Luke turned a glare on him. “Are you kidding me? I--”

Vader didn’t even bother to respond. Striding the distance that Luke had created between them in two steps, he seized his son by the jacket collar. 

“Okay, okay!” Luke protested before Vader could throw him up. Reluctantly, he let go, and Luke stepped back angrily, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll climb.” 

He moved faster than Vader thought he could move in such a state, covering about fifteen feet in the span of a few seconds. Vader’s irritation at his son moved aside enough to let in some pride;  _ some  _ pride. Luke was powerful, after all. 

Vader waited to see that the tree was holding Luke before moving himself, using the Force to adjust for his greater weight. He could sense the branches bending, so he moved with speed, following Luke up to the fork in the tree. 

Luke had just sat down in the middle of it. When Vader arrived, he moved immediately to the other side of the tree. 

“Son,” Vader said, and Luke spun on him. 

“Oh, shut up,” he said. 

There was no point in telling him it was true. They both knew it by now, and Luke would also, clearly, continue to be obstinate when the sun died and hot magma fell as rain. 

“You do not have to be…” Vader hesitated. Luke had already protested that. “It is nightfall. I have nothing to  _ use  _ you for, as you fear--”

“‘Cause it’s common sense.” 

Vader stopped short of his next words, which were about to be  _ so you have no need to keep me at arm’s length.  _ But Luke’s words had surprised him. They had been, admittedly, amusing. 

“There is nothing to fear from the dragons,” he said at last, amending his piece. Perhaps, if he could get Luke to budge in  _ some  _ way, that would cover enough ground between them for him to see Vader as less of a threat. 

And if he did not see Vader as a threat, he would accept him as a father. 

And once he accepted him as a father, he would turn. 

“Sure,” Luke said instead. The boy seemed to have learned sarcasm from Solo; or, perhaps, from that half-rate farmer who had had the audacity to raise him. Owen Lars had not been a respectful man. “Sure, there’s nothing to fear from the actual living krayt dragon, who is roaming the jungle right now. Who just ate, like, two people in two seconds. Who--”

“She will not harm us,” Vader said, cutting him off, “because I am here.” 

For once, Luke was silent. 

That was something, at least. Luke was beginning to actually accept the things that Vader was telling him. Or, perhaps more likely, tolerating them. But it was still a step forward. 

The night fell around them. Some bird called out to another; somewhere, in the midst of this chaos, the jungle life went on. 

“So should I just believe,” Luke said, “that even if I’m a Jedi, you’re going to kill a krayt dragon and not let it kill me?”

The thought was absurd, if not horrifying. That was another thing that Vader could not explain; and, frankly, it was a thing that made him livid. 

“That is NOT a possibility,” he hissed, turning to look at Luke, who was resting his head against a tree and who was not looking at  _ him.  _ “You will not be  _ dying,  _ young one, do you understand?”

“Okay.” Luke stared forward into the night. “Sure.” 

He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t agree with Vader; but for now, he was too tired to have an argument. Vader wanted to shake him, demand an answer, demand a  _ sworn vow  _ that he would  _ never  _ jest about such things. Luke was still afraid of him; for now, he could use that to his advantage. He could  _ make  _ Luke fear the possibility of dying. It was a rational fear, and to not have it in some form was stupidity. Yes, Vader knew exactly what he would say. He would bring up Bespin again. For some reason, another thing that bothered him was using that to affect his son, psychologically; although it was good for him in the long run, seeing Luke that distressed...bothered Vader. 

But he would have to do it now. He would ensure that Luke never came close to dying again. 

Vader was ready. 

He spun towards Luke, mouth already open--

And stopped. 

Luke was asleep. 

How exhausted must the boy be, to sleep with all those terrible events, in the presence of his father? But it was undeniable. Luke’s head had slumped forward toward his knees, which were curled up in front of him; his mop of blond hair fell forward over his face. And he was snoring. 

It was the first time he had ever seen Luke asleep, Vader realized. 

There was an uncomfortable thought, at the back of his mind; a thought that he had never seen Luke sleep, never seen his son as a baby, a child, a young adult, asleep. Had never come to make sure he was asleep, had never tucked him in. He dismissed it. The thought was useless. 

But still, it was wonderful to watch. To see. To see his son, his only son, with no hostility between them. 

That, too, was an unfortunate emotion. But this one Vader would allow. 

“Sleep well, my son,” Vader said at last, before turning to close his eyes in return, focusing on the Force. He sunk deep into it, focusing on his rage, his fear, his desire to turn Luke. Everything that made him stronger. 

Soon his presence was spread out across the jungle. 

The moment the dragon came within a mile of them, he would know it. 

  
  


This deep into the jungle, there didn’t seem to be any of those creatures around. Venka relaxed somewhat, but he wasn’t in the clear yet; he wouldn’t be until he reached his shuttle. And he was almost there. He remembered coming this way. 

“Just a little farther,” he said to himself, out loud, to help work through his nerves. “Just a little more, you’ll get there…” 

It was silent in the jungle; deadly silent, besides the sound of his breathing. It was unsettling. It made him feel simultaneously that he was alone and that he was being watched, and he didn’t like it. He made a conscious effort to soften his footsteps, but that didn’t get rid of the constant feeling that someone was breathing down his neck. 

Maybe it was just a byproduct of being an employee of Darth Vader. 

Venka laughed to himself at the thought; it soothed the tension, just a little. Then he stepped on a twig. 

The sharp crack was as loud to him as a whip. At least it seemed that way. 

Venka froze, looking around; he was sure someone had heard that, he was absolutely sure…

But no one was there. 

“Just your imagination,” he said to himself. “Just your imagination.”

He continued forward, ever conscious of the noise he was making, one step after another--

Then he came to a fork in the road. 

Now what to do?

Venka knew he’d been here before; he was sure of it. Deep in the jungle, foliage on either side. On the left, there were a few more trees. On the right, more dirt was spilled into the main path. A bird sat on the tree right in front of him. And all around him, for what seemed like miles as he turned around and around, endless green and green and  _ damned green he was so sick to death of the color green! _

A noise behind him. Was that one of those...those creatures? 

_ Thud.  _

The earth shook. Now Venka was sure of it. He knew that feeling, he’d felt it back in the facility, and this time the thud wasn’t alone. Now it was repeated,  _ boom boom boom,  _ faster. Like the thing was running. 

Enough. Enough, enough, enough. He had to go. He had to choose now. 

_ Thud.  _

Venka looked desperately at the two passages. The dirt spilled over the road, or what passed as a road, on the right...that might mean it had been walked on before.

By him. 

Releasing his breath, Venka took the righthand passage. And ran. 

“Not alone, not alone, not alone,” he said to himself as he ran. “Not alone, you’re not alone…”

Then Venka remembered he really wasn’t.

“How could I forget about you?” he muttered, looking down at the box that held the eggs. “I did this all for you, anyway...don’t worry, we’ll be safe soon enough.”

The thought was comforting. 

Although, he realized now that he was looking, the box was shaking. 

It was probably just his running, he told himself, and the fact that there was some sort of large creature after him…

But just in case, Venka stopped anyway. 

The box still shook. 

“All right, what’s wrong  _ now? _ ” he snapped, opening it. He peered inside. 

He saw the problem immediately. The first egg had cracked. 

A moment later, Venka realized what that meant: the egg was  _ hatching.  _ There was a baby  _ something  _ that was about to be born. 

As he watched, unable to move, frozen, a tiny, tiny claw was extended over the top of the egg, peeling back the outer cuticle. Then a second claw appeared; the hands were tiny, Venka realized with relief. The creature must not be that big. 

Then a much, much,  _ much  _ larger head appeared. 

The head was covered in scales--like a dragon, he realized in terror, this is a dragon--with tiny horns lining it back to the neck, and a scaled jaw that opened to reveal long, razor-sharp teeth. 

Technically, it was only smiling at him. But Venka was too horrified to notice.

He’d just hatched a freaking dragon. 

Venka dropped the box. 

The other egg cracked; white goo spilled forth. It must not have been developed, the fetus wasn’t ready, he’d killed it. The thought passed through Venka’s mind in the blink of an eye. 

The baby dragon had now freed itself almost entirely of the egg, peeling back the rest of the shell to reveal its gigantic torso--gigantic for a hatchling--that seemed already too hard to shoot with a blaster. The dragon looked up at Venka for a moment, then turned to the other egg, nudging it with its head. It made almost a purring sound as it did so, something in the back of its throat; Venka watched, his heart pounding a million miles an hour. 

What was it doing? What was...the thing doing? 

It purred again, this time louder. More frustrated. It almost tipped over the egg that held the dead fetus. 

Then Venka realized what it was doing. The eggs must all be from the same mother, or something like that; it was testing the egg to see if it was ready to hatch. Which it wasn’t, of course. It was dead. 

More of the goo poured out, spilling over the live dragon’s head. 

The dragon didn’t seem to care. Slowly, very slowly, it lifted its head to look back at Venka. 

“It’s okay,” Venka said weakly. 

The baby tilted its head to the side. 

And then it opened its mouth and let loose the most terrifying scream Venka had heard in his life. 

Without a second’s hesitation, Venka turned and ran for his life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....no. No, I lied. Things did not calm down.
> 
> Sorry for the wait! I've been working on a screenplay that's taking up a lot of my time, but I'll try to update soon.


	16. Five Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Vader try their hand at Conversations once again, with mixed results; a new threat shows up; more bad things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a small section(a couple sentences) of gore in this chapter.

Somewhere in the hours between dusk and dawn, during the silent watchfulness of the night, it occurred to Darth Vader that it was, technically speaking, the following day. 

That meant that he had five days to turn Luke to the Dark Side. 

Well, not in so many words. Palpatine had given him one month to find Luke and bring the boy to him; but Vader had promised his master that Luke was susceptible, that there was a great chance that he would turn; and so far, there had been barely an ounce of progress. 

If Vader took Luke to Palpatine, and his son was still stubborn, still unbroken, still determined not to turn...then Palpatine would kill him. 

No. Of course not. Vader knew how the world worked. 

If he brought Luke to Palpatine, and Luke would not turn, then _Vader_ would kill him. 

And, as much as it tore at Vader to think, that would be right. 

The Dark Side was strength. The Dark Side was power. Without it, Luke would be weak, and powerless. If he ever doubted it, the proof was before his eyes: without a lightsaber, he had been unable to fend off a krayt dragon. When Vader had arrived, he had first kept Luke still; then, he had used the Force to sway the dragon, to whisper to its mind that they were not there. Biology had played a hand; Greater krayts hunted by sight. But this one had already seen both of them move; and that time, there had been nowhere to run. So Vader had had no other choice. 

And it had worked. 

Without the Dark, Luke would die anyway. 

So if he did not turn, he _must_ be killed. 

That was assuming Vader could find a way to get them off the planet at all--but perhaps the struggle with the dragons would present a great opportunity. Luke must learn how to destroy them himself, without the assistance of his father. 

Vader turned to look at Luke. 

His son was still sleeping, curled up at an angle that meant his neck would be extremely sore when he woke; but Vader would not have dared to move him. He would have flinched away, in any case. And there was the fact that in sleep, Luke looked more peaceful than Vader had ever seen him. 

There was also the thought that now, watching Luke sleep, it appeared that turning him would be more difficult than ever. 

But there was no other choice. If Luke did not turn, he would die. 

_I am saving him,_ Vader told himself, _saving him, by doing this._

Luke did not have to like it. Vader did not have to like it. But turning Luke was the only way. 

And Vader now had five days to do it. 

  
  


Ruya had slept in the jungle. Failing to find Luke, and with the rain coming down harder, she had climbed inside a log and shivered until she curled up, wishing to herself that she hadn’t left the hospital--or that, at the very least, her mother was there with her. Her mother was always able to protect her. But eventually, she had gone to sleep anyway. 

Then, somewhere through the night cycle, she woke, lying on her side.

She wasn’t much warmer, but the rain had stopped. That was good. It meant she could get out and search for Luke. She knew she’d seen some footprints in the jungle close to the log before the rain had started coming down; now that there was no more rain, she would be able to find him. 

Luke was close. She just knew it. 

Ruya raised herself up, set one knee forward. But before she could move further, she became aware of a soft, hooting cry. 

_Just outside the log._

The monster, she realized, shrinking back in terror. The monster was here. 

But she had thought there was only one that had attacked Luke; she’d only heard one roar, from the hospital. Did that mean it had gotten to Luke? 

Did that mean he was...dead? 

The cry came again--softer, but closer. She could hear it perfectly; the sniffing, right near where she sat with her knees hugged to her chest, and the sound of its feet squishing into the soft mud. 

She could smell it--it smelled awful, like her tooka’s food when it had gone bad.

And then it came closer, and she knew that because she could feel it. Its breath was almost on her skin--there was a tiny hole in the right side of the log, and it came through, whispering against her skin. 

She could almost see the shadow of a long jaw. 

Slowly, her entire frame shaking, Ruya pulled the blaster out of her jacket and pointed it at the hole in the log. 

  
  


_The monster approaches._

_The shadows lengthen in the passage, growing as he backs away, taking shape in the form of tendrils that curl around him, suffocating him. He fights them, but he cannot breathe. He tries to seize his blaster, but the tendrils wrap tighter, pinning his arms to the side._

_And all the while he cannot breathe._

_All the while, the monster approaches._

_“No!” he screams, chokes. “Stop! Father--Father, stop!”_

_But the monster says nothing. Well, perhaps not_ nothing. _As his vision begins to leave him, it_ growls. _It hisses. Reaches for him, with long claws--_

_This is not his father._

_This is the dragon._

_And so he screams--or he tries to. But he cannot speak, cannot utter a sound, he is choking--_

_The dragon leans forward, over him, over her prey--_

“Luke!” 

Luke’s eyes shot open as he sat up, gasping, and tried to focus. What he saw did not make things better. What appeared to be a blackened skeleton was looming over him. 

Luke shouted and jerked away. 

“Luke, you must calm yourself,” the same voice barked, and then Luke realized that it wasn’t a skeleton, it was Vader’s mask. That didn’t make things much better. Fortunately, Vader had moved back to his branch, though he still leaned forward into Luke’s personal space. “ _What_ is wrong?” 

Luke didn’t say anything. What reason would he have to tell his--oh, Force _damn it--_ Vader that he was having nightmares? 

Especially nightmares based around what had happened at Bespin? 

“It was a vision,” Vader said aloud, seeming to guess. Furiously, Luke tightened his shields. “Was it not?”

Luke debated whether or not to answer. Finally, he acquiesced to nod, slowly. 

“I thought so,” Vader said, and Luke was surprised. Vader had not read his mind after all; and that meant that Force visions were common. 

Great. 

Vader pressed on, seemingly ignorant of the fact that Luke did not want to dwell on the...vision. “What did you see?”

Luke withdrew himself further, moving as far as he could go on the branch and still remain steady. “Nothing. I don’t think it was really a vision. And anyway, why do you care?” 

Vader didn’t even hesitate. “I--”

“Oh, shut up,” he said wearily. He really, really did not want to hear “I am your father” one more blasted time. “I hope you’re not going to say what I think you’re going to say. It’s getting old.”

“That would hint,” Vader said, and now there was, of all things, _amusement_ in his voice, “that you have accepted it at last.” 

_Oh, screw you._

Luke didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer. He was too tired. What had he gotten, four hours of sleep? 

“If I recall, you did not finish telling me why our...relationship...is so difficult for you to accept.” 

No, he hadn’t, because he’d tried to, and Vader had exploded at him. 

“You’re smart,” he said instead, turning away. “You can figure it out.” 

Vader’s anger _flared_ in the Force, and Luke made himself remain still, as frightened as he was; but nothing happened. The anger did not dissipate; it merely stopped rising, held in place suddenly like a cork that was placed over a bottle just before it exploded. 

“For your sake,” Vader said tightly, “I hope that you are not _trying_ to begin an argument with me.” 

Luke rolled his eyes, and enjoyed it. “No. Why would I do that?”

“You are being intentionally stubborn. Do not believe that I am incapable of noticing it.” There was a hesitation, another tremor of the volcano that was Vader’s anger, and then--gone. “I strongly doubt that stubbornness is a trait looked on positively by the Jedi.” 

Damn him. 

Luke hadn’t been awake for two minutes, and Vader had already jumped back on the “join me or die” train to hell. 

But stubbornness worked in more ways than one. 

“Depends on how you look at it,” he said. “Stubbornness that leads to anger, sure. But I’ll bet you five hundred credits that Obi-Wan was stubborn in training _you._ ”

The volcano trembled. 

“Do not _speak_ of Obi-Wan,” Vader rumbled darkly. The branch shook, just slightly, and Luke realized that Vader had stood up, had walked across the fork in the tree to tower over him. He didn't care. “What you say is certifiably untrue. He does not have a stubborn bone in his body. None of the Jedi do.” 

“Well--” For one second, Luke struggled for an answer. “I’m pretty sure they’ll be happy when my _stubbornness_ is what keeps me away from the Dark Side.” 

“Will they?” Vader’s anger had gone back to a simmer; and instead of the volcano, his presence in the Force now felt like a snake, strong in its slyness. “That depends on how far your stubbornness takes you.” 

Luke would rather he be angry. This was how he’d sounded at Bespin. 

He stood up on the branch as well, so that he could address Vader. So that he could fling insults at him from the perfect vantage point, if necessary. 

“What do you mean, _how far my stubbornness takes me?_ ” he demanded, feeling once more like a child. An unpleasant feeling, that, considering who he was talking to. “Speak Basic, will you?”

“Very well.” Vader tipped his mask closer to Luke. “What are you willing to do in order to _resist_ the power of the Dark Side?”

He wanted to get something out of Luke, something he could use; Luke knew that. So he decided that, for once, he didn’t care what he said and he didn’t care how Vader reacted to it. 

Vader’s presence had curled around him, like--like _tendrils,_ like in the cursed vision. Luke resisted a shudder. 

In fact, he resisted every form of revulsion possible to him as he looked up into Vader’s mask, into the black, blank eyeholes that made him want to run away and hide, and tried to imagine that he was meeting his father’s eyes. 

“Whatever it takes,” he said defiantly. 

Immediately Luke regretted moving that close. Vader seized him by the chin with fingers that could have crushed his jaw in an instant, pulling Luke's face toward him and holding him immobile. 

With a yelp, Luke tried to pull away, tried to push Vader away from him, but the hold was like solid iron.

“Do not dare to put yourself in such a position!” The volcano was back, and in full force. “You do not know what you are saying, you do not _understand,_ boy--”

Luke couldn’t see Vader’s eyes through the mask, but he knew they were looking directly into his. He could feel them on him, an intense, soul-searching gaze that froze him immobile and demanded he yield forth the truth. Unable to stand it, he looked away. 

It had stopped raining, he realized, focusing on the forest floor hundreds of feet below--

“ _Look at me.”_

That harsh demand, coupled with Vader’s overbearing presence in the Force, drove his gaze slowly, reluctantly, back up. The basilisk gaze met him once more. For several seconds, there was the horrible hissing, in and out, in and out, of the respirator, and Luke’s own ragged breathing as he looked into the mask that haunted his nightmares. 

No matter how tired he was, he wasn’t going back to sleep. 

“Doing ‘whatever it takes’ means that you are willing to be tormented, physically,” Vader said at last. “And emotionally, and psychologically. To have your sanity stripped from you. To have your soul destroyed.” There was a hesitation, and then: “Do you want that?” 

Luke could barely speak around that durasteel hold on his jaw--and whatever he could have said was absolutely stolen from him by terror. He couldn’t think. 

Vader’s other hand clamped around his shoulder, almost hard enough to bruise, and he was shaken--briefly, and forcefully. “ _Answer me.”_ One more second of hesitation, to make sure he was listening. To make sure he was sufficiently terrified. Luke hated him. “Do you want that?” 

“If it keeps me from the Dark Side?” Luke managed to get out, voice trembling. He took a deep breath, fighting around the fear and the Force tendrils almost holding him in place, and somehow he had the courage to say, “Yes.” 

For that, he was shaken again. 

_Get me out of here,_ he begged to the Force. _Please, just get me out of this damn tree and away from him,_ please _\--_

“You fool,” Vader hissed. “You do _not_ want that. You simply do not know it yet, you are too young; you do not understand. Do you have any idea what such torture would do to you?”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Luke whispered. 

“No. No, you do _not._ ” The hold on his jaw tightened, painfully. “But let us continue, then. Doing ‘whatever it takes’ means...that you are willing to _die._ ” There was another horrible, long pause before Vader spoke again. “Are you willing to do _that?"_

But Vader knew the answer, and saying it out loud would either stun him into silence or cause the volcano to erupt. Luke would take that chance, because for once in this horrible conversation, he had an opportunity at the upper hand. 

If his face had been free, he would have set his jaw. 

“I think you already know the answer,” he said. 

As far as their standing on separate branches would allow, Vader pulled Luke closer. “ _Are you willing to do it?_ ”

Luke could have given Vader the straight answer. But that was what he wanted.

“Remember Bespin?” he said. “Remember how I stepped off--”

“Do NOT--” 

“I’d do it a thousand times over,” Luke snapped, “whether Leia came for me or not.” 

Silence. Vader let go of him entirely, pulling back. 

Luke counted. One, two--

The volcano exploded. Vader didn’t say a word; he didn’t need to. All of his anger, all his rage at...at _whatever_ Luke had done washed over him, a pinpoint of fury aimed straight for his mind. It washed over him, cold needles piercing him, a fire of rage set to burn his soul, and Luke squeezed his eyes shut, trying in vain to escape it. It was fury that could have killed him in a moment, if Vader wished it; but judging by the explosion of anger, Vader most certainly did not wish it. And that realization froze him still, in terror, and in shock. 

Shock that Vader did not want him dead--that Luke dying was the one thing Vader did not want to happen. 

But terror that it was all for the wrong reason. 

That he was desperate--desperate to keep this wonderful, awful power of his, and if Luke was his son, that guaranteed power. 

He didn’t want Luke dead because he wanted to use his abilities. 

Suddenly it made all too much sense why Vader was his father, and Luke hated it. It was the worst possible explanation, and he wanted nothing more than to run, right then. 

But he had promised. He had promised not to leave; and for the sake of being a Jedi, of being morally superior, he could not break that promise. 

But oh, how he wanted to run. And not just that. He wanted to attack Vader, make him feel sorry for having such thoughts--he wanted to hurt _Vader,_ the same way _he_ had been hurt, he wanted to--

He wanted to cry. 

Luke wanted nothing more, in that moment, than to be able to break down and cry, to sob for as long as it took to feel better...because this was the worst thing that could ever have happened to him. To think that he’d dreamed of a father all his life, he’d told mocking children that his father was still up there, somewhere, he’d silently cursed Uncle Owen under his breath at the age of fourteen, telling himself that his _real_ father would have given him _exactly_ what he wanted…

And his father had been up there. That part was true. But his father was a monster. 

If Luke had known that, he would never have left Tatooine. 

  
  


Ruya could see the monster now. 

It had blue, scaly skin, mottled here and there with green and brown. It had long, sharp teeth, like knives, and they were dripping with some kind of...saliva. 

Ruya tried not to throw up. She could just see her brother mocking her. 

The monster’s mouth was right next to the opening in the log. It was right there. It had been for the last five minutes; the thing hadn’t moved. 

Ruya wished it would. She wanted it to do _something._

Then it did. 

The head slid forward slowly, very slowly. There was some sort of small ridge at the top of its head, a crest that was different from the rest of it. It was red. But Ruya only noticed it for a second. 

Because there was now an eye, and it was looking at her. 

A scream started working its way up Ruya’s throat, unbidden; furious at herself, she stopped it. Instead, she raised the blaster. 

The eye was gone. 

And the mouth was back, and it--

_Fwish!_

Something _flew_ into the log--the scream emerged. Before she knew what she was doing, Ruya had lunged sideways. 

When she realized she wasn’t dead, she noticed a small, sizzling puddle two inches to her left. As she watched, the wood that it had struck rotted and turned black. 

Poison. It was some kind of poison. 

The monster could spit poison. 

The monster. Ruya’s gaze was drawn back to the hole in the log, and then she almost screamed again. 

The monster was gone. 

But where? Where was it? 

Ruya was shaking now. She tried to stop it, she really did; but she was terrified, and she just wanted to get back to the hospital. She didn’t care if her mother was angry at her, and took away her tooka, or her dolls, or her pretend lightsaber. She just wanted to cuddle up to her and pretend everything was okay. 

Her breaths coming fast and hard, Ruya raised the blaster, making sure it was ready to fire, before looking at the end of the log. 

The monster wasn’t there. 

_Then where was it?_

Behind her, something hissed. 

Ruya spun around, taking the blaster with her. 

The monster was standing there at the end of the log, mouth open wide in a reptilian hiss. 

Ruya screamed and raised the blaster. 

And then someone else screamed. 

The monster turned before she could fire, letting out another one of those hooting cries. Ruya held her breath. 

And then, without looking back, the monster ran off into the jungle. 

Ruya wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to kill that thing. But in the end, she did none of that. Instead, she got up, scampered out of the log, and ran as fast as she could go. 

  
  


“Luke,” Vader said. He couldn’t know what Luke was thinking, he just couldn’t. But in any case, Luke turned toward him with a glare. 

“Just stop it,” he said, feeling more worn out than he’d felt in days. “Just shut up. Haven’t you traumatized me enough today?”

Luke couldn’t feel anything from Vader. But for the first time, Vader wouldn’t be able to feel anything from Luke. 

For the first time, they were equal in their stubbornness. 

“Sleep,” Vader said at last. “There is still an hour until dawn.” 

Really? He had the gall to suggest that Luke _sleep,_ after everything he’d said? Luke clenched his fists. The left one hurt; that was the arm Vader had grabbed onto. 

“Don’t think I can, thanks,” he said. 

Something like a sigh came from Vader’s vocoder. “If you would simply tell me what you are _thinking,_ young one, then we could have a civilized conversation.”

“If you would simply stop exploding at me, then I’d tell you what I’m thinking,” Luke retorted. 

That actually seemed to surprise Vader. The Sith was silent. 

“Do not dare,” he said at last, “do not _dare_ to assume that I--”

Then, once again, he was interrupted. But not by Luke. 

By the sound of screaming. 

  
  


“Help!” shouted a voice. “HELP ME!” 

Instantly, Luke forgot the pain in his ribs. Someone else had been attacked by the dragon, someone needed his help--he stood up. 

“Stop,” Vader demanded, standing with him. “Wait.” 

But Luke had had enough of stopping and waiting. He stepped to the edge of the branch and jumped. 

“Luke!” Vader bellowed from above him. “Luke, come _back!_ ”

But Luke ignored him, seizing a branch halfway down. It pulled at his muscles, but he swung from it onto the one below, teetered for a moment, and then leaped again. His landing was less graceful; the drop was farther than he’d thought, and he toppled forward onto the ground, rolling for several meters through mud and soft dirt before coming to a stop on his stomach. 

“Ugh,” he groaned. 

Spitting a clump of dirt out of his mouth, he rolled himself over and stood up.

_“LUKE!”_

Kriff him. Luke turned back toward the tree and raised his hand in an obscene gesture before facing forward. 

Then he broke into a run.

Vader could think what he wanted. Luke had promised not to run, _for now;_ until something came up, until they found a way out of their current predicament, he was sworn to uphold that. But he wasn’t going far. Besides, he knew Vader wouldn’t be caught dead helping a stranger. 

Then he reached the man. Both of them stopped short. 

Not a stranger. 

The man was dressed in an Imperial uniform; an Imperial had stolen the eggs, Luke realized. This was the thief!

And yet, as he looked at the man’s hand, there were no eggs. 

Luke had a very, very uncomfortable feeling about what had happened. 

“Where are they?” he demanded. “Where are the eggs?”

“The eggs,” the man stammered. “The eggs--” He was panicking, terrified; it would do no good to be harsh with him. 

“Yes, the eggs,” Luke said, forcing himself to calm down. “Where _are they?”_

“They…” The man’s eyes blew wide. “They hatched! One of them hatched, it’s a _dragon,_ it wants to kill me, _it’s a dragon--”_

“Wait a minute,” Luke said; the Imperial was panicking too much about the “dragon” part for him to...no way. No way was this absolute idiot the one responsible for all the chaos! “You mean, until a few minutes ago, you had no idea those things were dragons?”

The Imperial shook his head. “No, no, how could I? They--I--”

“You--” Luke pressed a hand to his forehead; this was turning out to be the longest day of his life. Maybe it was a nightmare. Maybe it was all a dream, the whole mission to Felucia was a dream and he was going to wake up in his room next to Wedge soon. “Okay. Okay, fine. You stole the eggs. You didn’t know they were dragons. One of the eggs hatched--one of. What happened to the others?”

“There was only one other,” the Imperial said--flatly. He was in shock, reciting facts. “It’s dead. I was so shocked--I, I dropped the box, I didn’t--”

“You killed it.” Luke sighed. “Well, that’s not the worst case scenario, so I wouldn’t…” Then he realized what must have happened; krayt dragons were not born vicious. They learned it. “The hatchling knows you killed its...brother, sister, or whatever. That’s why it’s angry.”

“Yes, it…” The Imperial looked over his shoulder. “And it’s coming, I know it’s coming! You have to help me!” 

“Okay. Okay, uh…” Luke took a deep breath. “What’s your name?” 

The Imperial looked confused for just a moment. “Ve...Venka.” 

Luke stilled. He knew that name, he knew--this man was from the _Executor._ His father’s--ship. _Damn it._ Vader’s ship. 

And beyond that, this man was responsible for the dragons’ escape. 

He could let the dragon kill him, he could run and--

 _No, you idiot,_ said a voice in his head. _That’s what Vader would do._

That’s right. That’s what Vader would do, and Luke was horrified that for even one moment he had contemplated letting this man be ripped to pieces. 

“We’ll help you,” he said. “I promise.”

Venka smiled. It was a smile of relief, to be sure; he never would have given Luke the time of day under different circumstances. But Luke took it for what it was. 

“Thank you,” he said. “It’s...thank you”

Luke returned the smile, and for the first time in days, life felt _real_ again. “Don’t mention it. Where did the dragon hatch?”

“Back…” Venka pointed vaguely behind him. “Somewhere. It’s hard to--”

“Yeah, the jungle can be like that,” Luke said, with another attempt at camaraderie. “Was it closer to the hospital, or to the wilderness?”

“Uh, wilderness,” Venka said. 

He had made his decision quickly. More than likely, it was accurate. 

“All right.” Luke ran a hand through his hair. Whatever sleep he’d gotten had done little for him, but he had to ignore that for now. “All right. So, first of all, we’re going to need to notify someone; get a message to the hospital, somehow; they need to know about all of this any--”

“No!” 

Obviously, Venka would be vehement about that. 

“What if I…” Luke thought about it. “What if I don’t mention it was you?” 

Venka frowned, as if it hadn’t even occurred to him that Luke would consider it. “You...you would do that?”

“Yes,” Luke said, although Aphra, and Vader, and Pandaki, and probably everyone else would kill him. “Promise.” 

Venka smiled again. This time, it was a real smile. 

“All right,” he said, drawing himself up rather haughtily. He hadn’t bothered to thank Luke, but Luke decided to chalk that up to extreme stress. “Then, I believe the hospital’s that way.” 

He turned around and pointed east. 

And screamed. 

There was a dragon standing ten feet from them. 

“Shut up!” Luke hissed. He remembered what Vader had said; they had to stay still, extremely still. “Don’t move, Captain. It won’t see us, and then…”

But as he looked at the dragon, he realized it was nowhere near a Greater. It was large, sure, but much, _much_ smaller than the other, a womp rat next to a bantha. Its skin appeared more blue than anything else, and there was a pair of red crests along its head. 

He had seen one of those, on the tour. He remembered distinctly, and tried desperately to remember what Pandaki had said. 

The Thunder krayt? 

No, that was the herbivore. 

The dragon moved closer. No, Luke realized, this one could definitely see them. He and Venka edged backwards. 

The Tyrant? 

No, that was the other name for the Greater. Blast. Why couldn’t these animals just have one name? 

“Go on,” Venka called to the dragon, his voice shaking. “Go, go! Get out of here, you dumb animal!” 

The “dumb animal” didn’t go away. It continued to walk forward, step by step, and then finally it stopped. By Luke’s guess, it was around five and a half feet taller than him. 

And he still hadn’t come up with a name. 

The dragon, oddly docile, cocked its head. Maybe it wasn’t a threatening one. Luke racked his brain...

_That is what we call the Spitting krayt._

“Get out of here!” Venka said, sounding legitimately panicked for an Imperial officer. “We’re not a threat, we just--we need you to--” 

With a hiss and a terrifying rattle, a ruff behind the dragon’s head rose up. The mouth was open. 

“Venka!” Luke gasped, turning toward him. “Run!” 

The dragon’s mouth moved. 

Venka screamed. 

The dragon turned, and before Luke could react, it hissed, and its mouth moved again--

 _MOVE,_ screamed the Force. 

Saliva flew. With a shout, Luke threw himself onto the ground. 

His head smacked into the earth, pain shooting through his brain and eyes, and for a moment he didn’t hear anything that happened; could only feel the vibrations of the earth and an overbearing presence behind him, and around him. 

_Vader,_ he realized. _Vader’s here._

Groaning, he set one knee forward, trying to pull himself up; and immediately, the familiar durasteel grip seized his bicep. But this time, it was not the most frightening thing he was facing at the moment. 

Vader didn’t wait for Luke’s head to stop spinning; he pulled him away, and as his head cleared, Luke could finally see what was happening. 

The Spitting krayt had Venka by the...by the head. Venka was screaming.

Then, something _popped._

With several shuddering breaths, trying not to scream or vomit, Luke turned toward Vader. 

“Help,” he gasped. “We have to help--we--”

“We have to _leave,_ ” Vader snarled at him, dragging Luke forward into the jungle. He moved forward, not stopping, not hesitating, even when Luke stumbled over a log in the ground; as relentless as when they’d escaped the Greater krayt. Trees and grass and flora passed by in a blur; Luke couldn’t even focus on it. 

Why? Why could he never save anyone in time, why did it always have to be--

Abruptly, Vader stopped. Luke bumped into him, and he barely noticed it; neither did the Sith, who spun around and grabbed both of Luke’s arms. 

“Luke,” the baritone voice demanded. “Luke, you have to look at me. Focus on me. Focus--” His jaw was seized again, forcing his head up; but strangely, it was not threatening in the least.

Vader said something else. Luke couldn’t hear it. 

He had tried. He had tried the time before, too, he had done everything he could, everything in his power to save the scientists, to save Captain Venka, but it had been useless. 

The dragons had killed them anyway--

_“Luke!”_

Luke realized that Vader was shaking him. He focused. 

“Where were you hit?” Vader demanded, his voice harsh and grating, and loud. Luke winced, he wished the man would just stop--

“Hit by what?” he whispered. “What are you--”

“The _dragon,”_ Vader snapped. “The dragon’s saliva, the paralytic, the poison, whatever you _wish_ to call it! _Where--”_

Suddenly, Luke realized what Vader was talking about. He’d seen Luke on the ground, motionless, and he’d thought--

“LUKE,” Vader roared. 

“I, I, I wasn’t,” he stammered. “I wasn’t! I swear, I--”

“You _what?_ ” Vader growled. 

“The…” Luke swallowed, trying to clear his head. “The Force warned me. I ducked before I could get hit.” 

Vader’s hands on his arms tightened. “You _swear?_ ”

“I swear.” Luke swallowed again, and again. He couldn’t stop seeing Venka. “I swear on the Force I didn’t get hit.” He looked up at the mask. It had not changed in twenty minutes, but it looked less cruel, somehow. “Why do you care?”

It was a challenge. He wanted the truth. 

Luke reached into the Force. Vader’s emotions were tightly, _tightly_ locked down. Even if he were at his full strength Luke could not have broken down those shields. 

“Let us continue,” Vader said at last. “We need to find transportation off of the planet.” 

Luke deflated. 

He was searching. He was trying to find something, anything that proved to him that his father cared about him. 

That his father was...well. A father. 

But it didn’t seem to exist. 

Or, if it did, Vader was determined that he not know about it. 

  
  


Pandaki, miraculously, had survived. 

It had been the most harrowing experience of her life, but Aphra had done it; she’d amputated half of the doctor’s arm, and he had only screamed twice. Then, when the surgery was over, he’d gone to sleep. Aphra hadn’t tried to wake him up. It had been four hours, and she hadn’t tried to wake him up. Maybe she should have, considering he’d need to eat something, and drink, and a dragon could show up at any moment; but she didn’t want to. 

Against all odds, she had respect for him. 

She didn’t want to. He had committed the worst of sins, in her book: he’d played God with dead creatures, brought them back from the dead, and unleashed them on the world. 

But he also felt terrible about it. 

And that was a start. 

As she lay in the shelter of the trees, on the river’s bank, she played with sleep; the idea of it, of falling asleep. She never fell asleep completely; only one of them could have rest, and that would be Pandaki. 

She simply lay there lazily, as the world teetered on the brink of sunrise. 

“You brave man,” she said, gazing over at Pandaki. “You brave, brave... _idiot._ ” She groaned. “Of all the people I really should’ve killed, you had to be the one who felt sorry.” She chuckled to herself. “Damn you.” 

Something rustled behind her. 

Immediately, Aphra was alert, spinning round with a blaster drawn. There was nothing there, at least not anything visible; but the trees behind them were swaying. There was something there. Not a Greater krayt, that was for certain; otherwise the upper half of its body would have been obvious. 

But Aphra remembered the Canyon krayts, around two meters tall. 

Moving very slowly, she nudged Pandaki. 

He awoke with a gasp. “What--”

“Shh.” Aphra didn’t look at him; she kept her blaster trained on the bushes and picked up her bag with the other hand. “Stand up. Don’t put pressure on the wound. Back away with me towards the river.” 

Thankfully, Pandaki understood immediately. He stood, letting his left arm hang limply, and matched Aphra’s steps back. One...two…

The bushes rustled again, louder--

And a _woman_ emerged into the clearing. 

Aphra lowered her blaster. The woman was some kind of nobility, or at least upper class; she was wearing pink robes, and wore earrings and a necklace. But she was also carrying a blaster, and her face--probably spotless, once--was covered in dirt. 

“Who are _you?_ ” Aphra demanded. 

“I might ask the same of you,” the woman said sharply, “but I don’t have the time. I need answers, and I need them now.” 

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Aphra crossed her arms over her chest. She’d just made a fool of herself, and this upper-class woman was making _demands_ of her. “I’ve been on the run for at least a day, I have a wounded doctor with me, and there are worse threats than a whiny princess, so if you don’t mind--”

The woman fired. Pain flashed through Aphra’s leg, and she went down on one knee. 

“Oh, I mind,” said the woman, her features hard as stone. She approached Aphra slowly, ignoring Pandaki’s cry of rage, and put the blaster to her head. “My name is Sola Naberrie, and if you don't tell me where my daughter is, I'll kill you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I have to give a shout-out to frodogenic for this chapter. Her fic "The Family Tree" is one of my most read on AO3, and naturally some of that slipped into this chapter, with the added influence of the parallel scene in the tree in Jurassic Park. So, thanks to frodogenic, and to everyone else...if you haven't read Family Tree, what are you doing with your life?


	17. Next Of Kin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sola joins Aphra and Pandaki; Piett and Veers continue their search; Luke and Vader make a surprising discovery.

“What exactly are we looking for here?” 

Luke knew he sounded tired, and probably whiny. He didn’t care. They’d been walking for over an hour, and it was well past dawn, and he hadn’t eaten. Not that he wanted to; he didn’t think he could eat for a while after what he’d just seen. 

“We will walk until we find transportation,” came back the answer. “All other concerns are meaningless. Once we reach civilization again, finding a way off of Felucia will be easy.” 

“But do you happen to know where civilization _is?_ ” Luke demanded, picking up his pace again. It was just unfair. Vader was taller than him; he shouldn’t have had any reason to berate Luke for being exhausted. 

One more point in favor of Vader not caring about him. 

Luke didn’t like it, but he’d accepted it by now. 

“I have an idea,” Vader said, “and you will have to trust me. And before you say anything,” he added, just as Luke was opening his mouth, “it has been proven to me that I have a better sense of the Force than you do. So you cannot argue.”

“And what, exactly, has proven that to you?” Luke found himself saying back. “Got a bunch of citations you can show me?” 

Vader stopped, spinning around sharply, and Luke took a stumbling step back. “That is _enough_ from you. I have saved you from two krayt dragons, and you have been nothing but ungrateful. Is it not possible for you to remain silent? You will cease your complaining, and follow me until we reach our destination!”

 _Is it not possible for you to show any compassion?_ Luke thought savagely. 

“What did you say?” Vader said, his voice low and deadly; and it suddenly dawned on Luke that he had spoken that aloud. 

Or else Vader had read his mind. 

“Uh…” He swallowed. “Never mind.” 

“Do not try that with me, young one,” Vader snapped at him. “I will hear what you say whether you speak or not, and just so that you understand, _compassion_ is useless. What you will learn--and what I _hope_ you learn--is that compassion is only a weakness. It makes you vulnerable. You saw it on Bespin, of course, that you would not have fallen into such a trap if you had not had such people to connect yourself to.” 

“Oh, shut up,” Luke muttered. He wanted to be angry again, but he didn’t really want to talk about Bespin. That had been the worst failure of his life, in _every possible way,_ and Vader seemed dead set on reminding him about it. “And could you maybe _not_ read my mind for once?” 

“You happen to be broadcasting your thoughts,” Vader said without even turning to look at Luke. “Shield your thoughts better, and they will not be so apparent to me.” 

Vader was leaving him behind again; Luke walked faster, although the action jarred his ribs and sent small shooting pains through his chest. 

“That’s the stupidest excuse I’ve ever heard,” he shot back, “and since I know Han Solo, that’s saying a lot.”

Now Vader _did_ stop, turning around to loom over Luke again; that seemed to be his go-to power move whenever Luke said or did anything he didn’t like. “Do _not_ compare me to that smuggler. Clearly, he is the reason why you are so uncooperative.”

“You can just _choose_ not to read my mind, you know,” Luke snapped, ignoring everything Vader had just said. He didn’t deserve to accuse Luke of anything, given what he’d done; and since Han was a better person, he didn’t deserve to criticize him either. “Maybe I’m broadcasting my thoughts, a little. But I’ve also received enough training to shield them, and you know that.”

“But you are wrong,” Vader said, his tone once again patronizing. “You have _not_ received enough training, and that is apparent.” 

“How do _you_ know?” Luke didn’t care if he sounded shrill. “It’s not like you--”

“I do not care with whom you have trained, because it has been a Jedi--or several--and no Jedi can give sufficient training.” 

Oh. _That’s_ the point he was going for. 

Luke crossed his arms over his chest and craned his neck back in order to give Vader the most done-with-this look he hoped the man had ever received. “Really? Okay, that officially wins worst excuse of the century. You’ve outdone yourself. Congrats.” 

Vader’s helmet tipped slightly to regard him, and all at once, the temperature _plummeted._ Instantly, Luke back-pedaled, wondering when the inevitable explosion would come, and really, really wishing he’d kept his mouth _shut--_

It never came. 

Instead, the anger vanished, replaced by something that Luke had never felt from Vader at all. Something almost...light. 

Luke frowned, unable to figure it out. It was so out of place for Vader, for a man who radiated only dark intentions and burning anger; not quite light, just a sort of neutral…

Amusement. 

He was actually _amused._

It could just be Vader being patronizing again, Luke rationalized; that was completely plausible. But it was also the most human emotion he’d felt from him so far. Maybe, if he said something else--

“We have wasted enough time with these meaningless discussions,” Vader said sharply, cutting off Luke’s thoughts and any hope of finding out whether or not his...his father had any spark of decency at all. “Come. The hospital is this way.” 

Vader turned back, facing forward; and reluctantly, Luke turned back to follow him, stepping through a puddle of mud and rainwater as he did so.

 _Oh, come on,_ he thought furiously, yanking his foot out of the mud. _Can this day get any worse for me?_

There was blood coating his boot, he realized suddenly. That hadn’t been there before. 

It had been in the mud. 

Luke bent down to look, afraid of what he might see. The puddle was, in fact, an ugly maroon color, a combination of the mud and dirt, and the blood that was apparently in it. He bent closer, looking…

Something rose up at him. He backed away, looked again, and gasped. 

There was a severed finger floating on top of the puddle. 

And if so, where was the rest of the body? 

“Luke!” The harsh shout almost made him flinch; he looked up to see Vader looming over him. He’d been so focused, he hadn’t even sensed the man coming. “I hope that you are not doing this simply to spite me. If you are, I can assure you that you will _not_ like the consequences--”

“Shut up,” Luke said quickly, pointing at the puddle. “Someone was killed.” 

Vader crossed his arms over his chest. “What does that matter?”

Luke swallowed; _that_ was horrible. “Oh, right, I forgot you don’t care about other people’s lives. It matters because whatever killed this person might be nearby.” 

“That is…” 

_Foolish._ Luke could hear the insults now. _Absurd. Ridiculous._

“...an astute observation.” 

His eyebrows shot upward. 

That was the first time Vader had praised him at anything since...well, Vader had never praised him. Unless you counted the remark about his technique being “impressive” at Bespin, and most likely that had been sarcasm. 

“Is it just the finger?” 

Suddenly Vader was kneeling beside him, only about a foot to his left. Luke slid several feet away. 

“Uh, yes,” he said. “And lots of blood. I didn’t see anything else.” 

“Then this person may have escaped with his life,” Vader said, helmet tilted down as he examined the puddle. “Perhaps the finger was all that the dragon took.” He stood. “Come. If this is the scene of a dragon’s attack, it is no place to linger.” 

  
  
  


“Your daughter?” There a blaster pointed at her and a wound in her thigh, but Aphra laughed. It wasn’t a big deal; she’d been shot before. “What do you think this is, some kind of summer camp for kids?” 

“Aphra,” Pandaki admonished her, his voice quivering slightly. 

“Do _not_ talk that way to me,” Sola Naberrie hissed, her face turning livid. “My mother is in the hospital, then my little girl runs away, and then I find _you_ unsavory people--”

Pandaki went rigid. _“Unsavory?”_

“You must be at the center of this,” Sola pressed on, completely ignoring the doctor. “Tell me where she is!” 

Pain be damned. Aphra lunged to her feet, getting right in the Naboo woman’s face. “Tell you? How _could_ I? I don’t even know where the hell she is, and I don’t want to. I don’t know, maybe you hadn’t figured this out yet, but I don’t do great with kids.”

Sola advanced closer. The blaster was almost touching Aphra’s skull. “You don’t know where she is.” 

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

Now the blaster was touching her skin. 

Aphra met Sola’s eyes--they were a light brown and filled with anger, and fury, and no mercy. She felt a little bit afraid. 

“Do you _swear?_ ”

“Yes,” Aphra said, making a gigantic effort to not sound sarcastic at all; a difficult thing to do. “I swear.” 

“Swear on something you love!” 

“Love?” Aphra snorted. “That’s coming on a little strong, don’t you--”

_“Swear!”_

Aphra raised her hands defensively, allowing her blaster to drop to the floor. “All right, all right. I...swear on…” Her gaze shifted, from Sola’s overly intense eyes to the ground, and then to her bag. “I swear on all my findings that I have not seen your daughter.” 

“Your findings,” Sola echoed. 

“Yes, damn it, I’m a doctor!” Aphra shrilled, throwing her hands in the air. “I’m an archaeologist, I grew up trying to dig things out of my own backyard, and I’ve made discoveries that have turned the entire scientific community upside down!” She chuckled; that wasn’t _all_ she’d been doing. “Of course, I also committed a lot of crimes that drove every police force up their own--”

There was a swift kick to her healthy leg. Pandaki. 

Oh. Right, right. Maybe she shouldn’t say things like that in front of this woman. Oh, well. Aphra had the tendency to get carried away. 

“But your findings,” Sola said again. “You swear on that?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Aphra said emphatically. “I haven’t seen her!” 

Sola’s eyes narrowed. Aphra shifted her weight to her good leg, preparing to reach for the knife in her boot...but then the blaster was retracted, and Sola stepped back. 

Aphra collapsed onto the ground, immediately rolling up her trouser leg to get a look at the wound. It wasn’t terrible, by any means, but it was bleeding pretty freely, and would need _at least_ a cleaning. Her head snapped up to glare at Sola. 

“ _God,_ woman,” she hissed. “You could’ve at least not shot me!” 

“I’m sorry,” Sola said tightly. 

“Oh, are you?” Pandaki said; that was a surprise. Maybe he’d gotten to like Aphra in return. “It is extremely foolish to assume anything; to act before thinking.” 

_Geez, follow your own advice, buddy,_ Aphra thought as she dug some antiseptic out of the bag. _One childhood passion for krayt dragons leads to people’s guts getting ripped out, apparently._

“I _am,_ I promise I--” As if disgusted, Sola tossed the blaster to the ground. “I’m never like this. Of course I went through training, years ago, but I never used it, I swore to be peaceful, and I would never have shot you under different circumstances, but--well--” Anger once again crossed her features; anger, and extreme worry. Suddenly she looked as if she was about to burst into tears. “If you had a nine-year-old daughter, and she disappeared into the jungle _right after_ some kind of wild beast showed up, and you couldn’t find a sign of her anywhere, you--you--you’d be worried too!” 

Aphra’s eyes went wide. Wow, no wonder this woman was worried. She shot a glance at Pandaki--yep, just as she’d thought. The doctor was the perfect picture of guilt. 

“Well, we really haven’t seen her,” she said. “Sorry.” 

Sola looked away for a moment, and Aphra hoped she would go away. But instead, she looked back at them, opening her mouth. 

_Oh, no,_ Aphra thought with a sudden flash of horror. _She’s all alone out here, and now she’s told us her sob story...now she’s going to tearfully beg us to come with her and find her kid…_

“We’re trying to find the hospital,” she said quickly. “I’ve been navigating as best as I can, but it’s a little difficult out here in the jungle. Do you happen to know where the hospital is from here?”

Aphra happened to know _exactly_ where the hospital was from here. Tracking and navigation were two of her top skills; she’d mentioned them to a security officer, once, just as he was arresting her, with the added news that she’d be good for a job. (Needless to say, he’d put stun cuffs on her and led her away.) But Sola didn’t need to know that. 

“I do,” Sola said, “and actually, I was just going that way myself. I’d recognize Ruya’s footprints myself, and...” She chuckled. “The poor girl really just led herself in a circle.” 

Aphra resisted the urge to groan. 

“And if you’re going there…” Sola smiled, and it actually made her look pretty. “We must as well join paths for a while, don’t you think?”

 _No, no, no,_ she thought, looking over at Pandaki. Surely he’d understand, with that wound, they couldn’t be distracted with--

But he was nodding at her. 

She could just hike off right now, Aphra thought furiously. She’d finished cleaning the wound, she was in the act of wrapping it up, she could grab the blaster and leap off into the trees…

But Sola was likely to go off at almost a run through the jungle, in the effort to find her kid. In minutes, Pandaki would get left behind. 

And Aphra just didn’t have the heart to let that happen. 

So, reluctantly, she turned back to Sola Naberrie with the most fake-happy smile she’d given in a long time. “How could I say no?” 

  
  


They had tried everything. From scouting the jungle to sending a message to the Felucian government to asking at the hospital, no one knew what was happening. The most that the hospital’s receptionist would tell them was that some Rebels had come in earlier to deliver injured soldiers to them, but had left a long time ago. 

Piett thanked her, and they reconvened outside the reception area, on two chairs. It was around the middle of the night cycle, but neither wanted to sleep. 

“I don’t like this,” Veers said at last. “It is not ideal.” 

“Of course it isn’t, but there’s nothing we can do about it.” Piett sighed. “Something was off about her, wasn’t there?”

Veers blinked. “Her?”

“The receptionist, of course. It was as if...she was afraid of someone.” 

“Hmm.” Veers scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I suppose she was. Speaking quickly, eyes darting around; I didn’t notice at first.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Hiding something, do you think?”

Piett glanced over at the receptionist, whose hand trembled slightly as she picked up a comm to make a call. 

“Almost definitely,” he said. “But what?” 

“Not here,” Veers said. He jerked a thumb at a door at the end of the hall. “Caf room. We’ll have to pay something for it, but what are credits to us?”

“You’re right.” Piett got up, and very slowly, making an effort not to look suspicious, he and Veers made their way to the door at the end of the hall and disappeared inside. 

  
  


“All right, to business.” Sitting over a cup of caf each, Piett and Veers got to discussing things. There was no one else in the room; of course not. It was the middle of the night. “Blast, this is good.” 

“I know.” Veers took a sip, gave a long exhale, and sat up. “So, here’s what we know. There’s been some sort of creature attack just west of the main jungle. Lord Vader is somewhere on the planet. Doctor Aphra is somewhere on the planet. And at some point yesterday, a dozen Rebels showed up with injured troops, and then left.” He rubbed his forehead; he was onto something. “What do you bet that Commander Luke Skywalker was one of them?” 

_Must I repeat myself? Leave them. Skywalker is not with the Rebels. He is on Felucia._

Piett put his head in his hands. 

“Oh, you knew this,” Veers said. “Of course you knew this. And oh, let me guess, you _meant_ to tell me, you were simply too stressed--”

“Max, do you know what’s happened today?”

“Yesterday.” 

“Oh--” Piett sighed. “All right, be one of those people. Yesterday, do you know what happened yesterday? We found the Rebels. Lord Vader told us not to attack them, disappeared on some mission he wouldn’t even tell me about except to _not disturb him, for any reason,_ Venka immediately disobeyed the order to go after him, because apparently Venka has been involved in secret dealings regarding dragons illegally brought back from the _bloody dead,_ we came down here, followed Lord Vader’s trail and discovered the aftermath of a dragon attack, with no sign of Vader at all--”

“All right, I get your point, and I’m sorry,” Veers sighed. “But what about Skywalker?” 

Now that he’d been allowed to rant about a day that had somehow been wilder than the fallout at Bespin, Piett had calmed down somewhat and was remembering what Vader had said. “We didn’t attack the Rebels as they escaped.” 

Veers nodded. 

“You know this. But do you know _why_ we didn’t attack them?”

“I’m going to venture a guess and say that Skywalker stayed behind,” Veers said slowly. “For some reason, Vader’s been after that kid since before Bespin, didn’t _get_ him at Bespin; I don’t know why he expected to. Skywalker blew up the Death Star, after all.” His fists clenched in anger. “Most likely, he came down here to find him for good.” 

“Where they were, presumably, attacked by an escaped dragon.” Piett took another drink. “But the question is, where does Venka fit in all of this?” 

“One thing’s for sure.” Veers stood up. “We won’t get any answers from the hospital; what I’m going to guess is that Vader came _here_ looking for Skywalker, and that’s why no one will mention it. Of course he’ll have demanded that they not say a word, and when he demands something--”

“You follow it to the letter.” Piett chuckled. “Oh, I pity that receptionist.” He stood up as well, and the two men disposed of their flimsi cups. “But then, if we can’t get answers from the hospital, where do you propose we go?”

To that, Veers just smiled. 

“Oh, no,” Piett said, feeling both laughter and terror rise in him. “You...you want to go _down the hole,_ don’t you? The one the dragon escaped from?”

“The very same,” Veers said, slapping Piett’s back. “Come on, Firmus, it won’t be terrible. You’ve got me with you, after all, and I’m a seasoned general.” He patted his belt, making sure his blaster was still there. “We’re in my territory now.” 

“Oh, joy,” muttered Piett as they walked out the door. 

  
  


“Is your leg all right?” asked Sola for the third time. 

Aphra rolled her eyes. “You know, you don’t have to keep feeling bad about that. I told you, I’ve been shot before, it’s really not a big deal.” 

“Well, where I come from it is,” Sola said, her eyes serious. She had a way of saying corny, innocent things and making them sound absolutely serious and wise. “I shouldn’t have shot at you, because Naboo is a planet of peace.” 

_And how would you feel if I told you I once worked for the Empire,_ Aphra thought grimly. But she didn’t say that. 

“Oh, well,” she said instead. “I guess we have our differences.” 

They walked in this order: Sola in front, Pandaki in the middle, and Aphra at the back as the scout, so to speak. They had been walking almost an hour, and now dawn had arrived. As they rounded a corner past several large trees, Aphra noticed a small plant; it was purple. 

_Depresso mortem._

To think that twelve hours ago her biggest concern had been faking her death so Darth Vader didn’t find her. 

He was out here, she realized with a shudder, there was no way the Greater krayt had killed him. And, for some reason, he’d spared Luke; so Luke was also alive, though probably more than miserable at the moment. 

Then, where was Jamet? He’d been ridiculous, but he’d helped her nonetheless. And had he told Vader? 

It didn’t matter now, she decided. But she still needed to know. 

“Hey, Sola,” she called. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure,” Sola said without turning around. “Go right ahead.” 

“I didn’t come here alone,” Aphra said. “There was someone with me, another human; his name was Saigon Jamet. And, well, this might sound a little, ah, strange, but he was supposed to help me fake my death.” _Okay, maybe should’ve left that part out, she’s looking at you like you’re crazy. Which you maybe are, but we can figure that out later._ “I haven’t seen him in around twelve hours.”

Sola frowned. “I haven’t run into him either. What did he look like?” 

“He was a tech, also expert on biology and he was helping me figure out where some scientists are. They created a bunch of illegal krayt dragons--”

Now Sola _did_ stop, spinning around in horror. “Krayt dragons?” 

Aphra realized that Sola didn’t know; she had no idea what was going on. “Yeah, uh...hate to break it to you, but…” She glanced at Pandaki; once again, he was dejected. “Some scientists brought back krayt dragons, for the purposes of a zoo. Then, well, it’s a long story, but one of them escaped. That’s probably what you heard from the hospital.”

“Then we need to find Ruya immediately.” Sola faced front again. “But, to answer your question...no, I haven’t seen any Saigon Jamet anywhere.” 

“Okay. He’s probably around somewhere, or else he got smart and left Felucia altogether.” Aphra shrugged, and the three resumed their trek through the jungle. “Thanks, anyway.” 

  
  


There was more blood. 

For a quarter of an hour, Vader had led them through the jungle with little incident, which was fortunate; he was beginning to sense a feeling of constant anxiety from Luke, and it made sense. In the last twelve hours, his son had been attacked by a krayt dragon, on three separate occasions, and two out of those three times he had watched people die, violently. Vader had not known either of the scientists who had died, and he had to admit that he almost felt happy about Venka’s end; the Captain had long extended his stay in life, and that way Vader hadn’t even had to do anything. However, he understood how both deaths would be traumatic to a boy who had not experienced much violence. 

_When he becomes a Sith, he will experience it,_ the peculiar voice whispered. _He will take part in it, and he will watch it, and events like these will not affect him. Violence will become...usual._

Vader risked a glance back at Luke, hoping his son would not sense him looking. If so, he would probably be rewarded with more sarcasm. But he had nothing to worry about. Luke’s head was bowed, eyes on the ground as he walked; one hand was pressed to his ribs. 

_He could not kill anyone. He is not strong enough._

No, Vader thought fiercely, I will make sure he _is._

Then Luke stopped suddenly, still staring at the earth. 

Vader turned fully around. “Luke. What is it?” 

“I…” Luke pointed at the earth. “There’s more blood.” 

Vader walked toward him, feeling Luke’s trepidation in the Force but deciding he didn’t care. With every passing hour, Luke was getting more used to him; a little more proximity wouldn’t hurt. He looked down. 

It was more difficult to tell through the lenses of the mask, through the red color that it put on _everything,_ but the grass was certainly stained a different color, and there was a larger puddle, about the size of a small plate, beneath one of the trees. And then, further--Vader followed the trail, Luke behind him--part of an arm, shredded and bloody but not so much that he couldn’t tell what it was. 

Vader stopped there. Someone had clearly been killed, and the reason they weren’t finding the rest of him was because he had been devoured by one of the dragons. 

A soft gasp behind him, and something touched his back--Luke had bumped into him. 

Vader turned around, and Luke backed off. 

“Come on,” Luke said, looking confused. “Why did you stop? We need to--”

“This, intentional or otherwise, is a trap,” Vader said, cutting him off. “Whoever this was, a dragon has found him; we will not find the rest of the body. What we will find is a krayt dragon that is ready to kill both of us. If we can avoid that, it will be better.” 

“But,” Luke started, and Vader could tell that his son did not know whether to speak his mind or not. “But other people survived, and if we don’t kill the dragon--it--”

Enough. His foolishly selfless ideals would get him killed. 

“They do not matter,” Vader said, pointing a warning finger in Luke’s face. “Until now, I have tried to be patient with you, but if you recall what happened prior to our confrontation at Cloud City--”

“I don’t want to, thanks,” Luke muttered. 

“The only reason you were drawn there _at all_ was because of your friends,” Vader continued, having learned by now to ignore his son’s disrespectful remarks. “Which, nevertheless, led to a good thing, but--”

He should have known not to say that. 

“A _good thing?_ ” Luke exploded at him. “You beat the nine hells out of me, you cut off my hand--”

“We have discussed this before,” Vader said quickly, not wanting to launch into yet another argument about what he had done to Luke at Bespin, because of how terrible it made him feel it would waste more time. “We do not need to--”

“Yes, we do,” Luke snapped. “Because you want to shake it off like it’s no big deal, but if you ever want me to trust you, you’ll actually listen to what I have to say! And if joining the Dark Side means I have to give up on my friends, I will _never_ do it.”

_Five days. To convince him, you must remain calm. Five days. Five days, do not be angry, do not--_

“Again, you do not know of what you speak.” There, he had remained suitably cold; he must remain emotionless. If he showed himself to be calmer, the bigger person, so to speak, then Luke would see his logic, and it would be easier. “What I did on Bespin was...regrettable...but it was for your own good, young one. And you misunderstand me. You cannot care about your friends overmuch, but I do not mean you must forsake them entirely. Joining the Dark Side is the only way to protect them.” 

“How the hell would you know that?” _Five days. Five days. Calm._ Luke looked, for once, _confident,_ and no wonder; perhaps he sensed he had the upper hand. “You’ve never loved anyone in your repulsive life.” 

Over the past two months, feelings and emotions and remembrances of Anakin Skywalker had tried to break through the powerful wall in Vader’s mind that he had built against them. They had grown stronger, but so had he; and he had been successful in holding them back, in accepting Luke _Skywalker_ as his son while holding onto the truth that Anakin was dead, that only Vader was strong enough, all that time since he had learned that Luke was his son. The flood of memories had grown stronger over the last month, and then even stronger over the last _day,_ but still he had been successful. 

_You’ve never loved anyone in your repulsive life._

He fought, he fought, he fought. _Windu, screaming--_ no. _You were my--_ no. _I have to sort this out on my own, without the Council, and without--_ shut up. _My son...now I am comple--_ NO. 

_You’ve never loved anyone--_

All of those, he stopped. But he’d missed one. 

_Come away with me, help me raise our child--leave everything behind while we still can!_

“Do not _PRESUME_ to know!” he roared, almost forgetting that the person who’d uttered the awful accusation was his son, only knowing that he _had_ loved, once, and it had ruined him, had made things a thousand times worse than they would have been otherwise. His vision went red, one hand curled into a fist--

Luke was backed up against a tree, his brain registered, hand preemptively reaching for his throat, his face a mixture of fear and hatred. 

A perfect recipe for the Dark. 

And finally, Vader wrestled the memory under control and shoved it back _where it belonged._

The past. 

Vader lowered his fist and simply stood there, towering over his son, and not knowing what else to say. 

Luke didn’t seem to know what to say, either. He stayed against the tree, shoulders tensed, shrunken back as small as he could get; all anger had vanished from his face. Now it was back to just fear. How was this possible, that in four hours Vader could undo everything he had done the day before? 

Something rustled. 

At once, everything changed; Vader spun around, and Luke stepped away from the tree. The bushes in front of them were shaking slightly. Immediately, Vader was furious with himself; somehow, he’d let both of them forget that there might possibly be a krayt dragon near them. 

“Do you feel any of them?” Luke asked finally, his voice small. “In the Force, do you feel any of the dragons around?”

“No.” Vader had been monitoring their progress over the last hours. He couldn’t tell which of the dragons was which, but he knew that one was about five miles away, and the other twelve. “Both are near enough, but at a distance that this could not be either of them. So I do not know what is approaching us.” 

“Well…” 

Realization. Anxiety. Vader turned to look at Luke. 

“Well, _what?”_ he snapped, making no effort to make his voice any less harsh. If there was something else to worry about, he needed to know it. 

“I forgot you didn’t know this,” Luke said in a whisper, still looking straight ahead at the bushes. “But...there’s a third dragon out here.” 

The world stilled. 

_“WHAT?”_

Luke flinched visibly, and Vader attempted to calm himself. 

“There’s, yeah, there’s a third dragon out here, it tried to attack me yesterday--” Luke was speaking very quickly. “I leaped up into a tree, and I stayed still and eventually it went away.” 

Vader seized Luke’s arm. “Is that _all?”_

“Uh…” Luke swallowed. “It may also have the ability to...turn invisible.” 

Vader wanted to explode. He wanted to roar at Luke again, make him terrified, just so that he would know _immediately_ when there was the possibility of danger and _not almost an entire day later._ But for one, that would make it less likely for Luke to cooperate with him; and also, the louder he was, the more danger he would put them in. 

In fact, it might be better not to speak at all, he thought as the bushes rustled even more _ferociously._

So, instead, he reached toward Luke’s mind. 

Instantly, Luke recoiled. Not this again. 

_Get_ **_out,_ **came the angry demand. 

_We cannot speak, it is too dangerous, and this is the best form of communication at present,_ was Vader’s reply. They had no choice. 

And, fortunately, Luke seemed to accept it. That was good, because the bushes had stopped moving altogether. 

_Back away,_ Vader instructed him. _Back away slowly. Ready your blaster, but do not draw it._

Luke did so, moving one foot at a time, slowly and quietly; Vader followed, keeping himself in front. Until Luke embraced the Dark Side, he must be the protector. 

Twenty paces back, they had put enough distance between them and the bushes. Vader moved his hand to his lightsaber. 

_Stop?_ Luke asked. Vader could tell that Luke was still supremely uncomfortable with this kind of communication, but at least he was using it. 

_Yes._

They stopped. 

Father and son remained there, absolutely still, looking at the bushes. There was no movement; everything was dead in the heat of the day. So Vader waited, keeping Luke close to him on the left and readying his lightsaber on the right. 

Then there was movement--

No. That was the wind. Luke’s hair was moving, just slightly. 

Vader relaxed. 

Then something rustled. 

_Behind them._

Vader spun at once, swinging Luke around with him and igniting his lightsaber in a single movement. He barely noticed Luke flinch; there were worse things to worry about. 

There was a thicklet of low-hanging branches and bushes and undergrowth there, and it was shaking more fiercely than the bushes on the other side of the clearing, back and forth, swaying--

“Something is emerging,” Vader said aloud. “Be ready.” 

Luke nodded. 

The flora rustled more aggressively. Vader readied his lightsaber, sensed Luke drawing his blaster--

And then something did emerge. 

But it was a _child._

A girl, Vader could tell by the sight of her, with olive skin and big brown eyes that shifted warily between him and his son; she looked absolutely haggard, as though she had been wandering the jungle for the entire day. Maybe she had. Her clothes and face were dirty, wet from the night’s rainfall; and it took Vader a moment to realize that she was the child that Luke had had with him in the turbolift. 

But why was she _here?_

“Who are you?” Vader demanded, letting go of Luke’s arm and stepping forward; with a scream, the girl recoiled. “What are you doing here?” 

“Stop!” Luke shouted, running forward and throwing himself between them. “Stop it, she’s terrified!” 

“She should be,” Vader growled, trying to move around Luke to get at the girl; clearly, Luke had an attachment to her, and it would be dangerous for both of them. “If she is the threat, then this has been a waste of our time. And we do not know if she has been sent.” 

“Well, if you want to kill her,” Luke said stubbornly, “you’re going to have to go through me.” 

He crossed his arms over his chest. 

Damn the boy. With a snarl, Vader extinguished the blade. 

Luke let out a sigh and turned to the girl. “See, it’s all right. I’m not going to let him hurt you.”

Already, this child was threatening to pull Luke away from him. Vader clenched his fists and stalked around to face both of them. 

“We cannot waste our time here,” he said; they would have to leave, immediately, and he did not care what Luke thought about the defenseless child being left in the woods. 

And yet...still he did not know enough. 

Curious, he tipped his mask down to regard the girl. He hoped he looked terrifying, because that would startle the answer out of her that he wanted. 

“What are you doing here?” he demanded. 

She did not speak; she was white as a sheet. 

“What did you expect?” Luke said. “You’re scaring her.” 

Fine. He would try a simpler question. 

“Who are you?” he said, attempting to make his voice sound softer. 

The girl looked up at Luke, the picture of trust. It burned Vader to his core, and he realized why: he wanted his son to look at _him_ that way. 

And it would never happen. 

“It’s all right,” Luke said, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips; Vader had never seen him smile. That fact was almost enough to make him jump into a rage again. “You can tell him.” 

Vader waited. 

Her entire body shuddering in fear, the girl steeled herself and lifted her chin to look at Vader. 

“I’m Ruya Naberrie,” she said. 


	18. The Bonds Of Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader's past gives him problems; Ruya makes things worse and better simultaneously; Sola is a mama bear; our favorite Dynamic Duo(Piett and Veers) do things they probably shouldn't be doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my fabulous beta KaelinaLovesLomaris!

_I’m Ruya Naberrie._

Three words. That was all it took to shatter his world. 

Naberrie. Naberrie. The name echoed in his mind, over and over again, like the ringing of a bell. Naberrie. And that was obvious already, in the dark curls tumbling over her shoulders; in the olive skin, without a single blemish; in the warm, brown eyes set off by the long hair and the heart-shaped face; and in the way said warm, brown eyes held all the defiance and ferocity in the world. 

Of course she was a Naberrie. 

Of course she was related to--

 _No,_ he snarled at himself. _Keep it in the past._

But how easy would that be, when the past had insisted on throwing itself into his path; stumbling out of a thicket, to be more exact? 

“Ruya... _Naberrie,_ ” he found himself saying, numb. Once again, he had almost killed a member of hi...of _Anakin’s_ family. This could be a cousin of his, by marriage--a niece--part of _her family--_

The girl was frowning now, looking both taken aback and frightened as she stared up at him. Eventually, she seemed to find her voice. “Yes, that’s what I said.” 

Vader knew that his behavior was very suspicious. He knew that he was being, for the first time in his life in years, blatantly obvious about his feelings. He knew that he was confusing both Ruya _and_ Luke. He knew all of that. But he could not stop his mind from wandering, from searching back into the past and calling up every remembrance of _her,_ of the way she would toss her head back when she laughed, of her beautiful singing voice, of the way she would climb up on a chair to be taller than him when they were arguing, of the way _this child_ was related to _her--_

But that begged another question. 

How?

 _How_ was Ruya related to...to her? To Luke? Was she a direct cousin, a cousin once removed? A cousin by marriage? 

Or could the name be a complete coincidence? 

No, he decided in an instant. The appearance was too similar. If she had been more of Luke’s complexion, then perhaps; but even through the lenses of his mask he could see the details. 

How could he not, when they had been burned into his mind for the last twenty-two years? 

How could he not, when they had been his constant torment? 

No. No, he could not remember, he could not think--already he could sense his thoughts beginning to spiral, and with the greatest effort yet, he closed the door on them. 

_You cannot enter,_ he snarled. _Even with the presence of this child, you are forbidden!_

He needed control. 

_“Ah, Lord Vader.”_

_He kneels before his master, the position painful to his limbs; that, he knows, is the point. The Dark Side is power to be certain, but it is also pain._

_“How goes the search for Luke Skywalker?”_

_It has been two weeks since Bespin. The search has not gone anywhere since; Luke has been determined to avoid him, at all costs. And he can see why. He understands why. But it does not make him feel any better._

_“He is...resistant,” Vader says at last, then decides that he needs to add something that will make Palpatine happy; at least, as happy as a Sith can be. “But in my search, I have nearly come upon the Rebel base.”_

_“Have you? Good.” Palpatine smiles, but it never reaches his eyes. “Yes, Vader, you must remember your_ purpose. _Your purpose is not the boy. It is the Empire’s peace, and the boy’s purpose will be to help us obtain it. The Empire is first.”_

 _“I understand, my Master.” It is the only answer he can give; because he_ does _understand. But he also understands that Luke is family, and Palpatine’s greatest failure has been to keep his family safe, as he promised. He opens that thought to him, ever so slightly._

 _What he does not open to him is his_ own _purpose for Luke._

 _“Ahhhh.” Palpatine inhales slowly, as if realizing something. “Of course. Do not worry, my friend; he will be safe. As long as he turns.” The Emperor’s expression softens, almost reminiscent of that kindly old man, that_ friend, _who Vader once knew. “You do know that, do you not?”_

_“Yes, Master. I wish that there was another way, but there is not.”_

_“Yes. You are wise, Lord Vader; wiser than ever you have been.” There is hesitation, a slight doubt; Palpatine has merely allowed him to sense that. “But I sense…” He licks his lips, moistening them. “I sense something about you, my apprentice, a kind of...conflict. It has to do with Skywalker, does it not?”_

_For some reason, there is a voice in the back of Vader’s mind; a whisper of doubt, telling him not to voice his own doubts to Palpatine. But that is absurd. Palpatine must die, but not yet; for the present, he is useful. He has wisdom that Vader desperately needs._

_“I...would agree,” Vader says, reluctantly. “It is not a lack of control, Master; simply small sentiments, feelings out of place. Is my...is Luke Skywalker a weakness to me, do you think?”_

_“It is difficult to say,” Palpatine says thoughtfully. “On the one hand, these doubts are minimal, just small doubts; but small doubts_ cannot _be underestimated. Yes, he is your family; but you cannot lose control over your own actions because of him. Control, melded with anger, has benefited you greatly over the years. The last time you allowed yourself to lose it…” He sighs, shaking his head. “We both know what happened.”_

Yes, _Vader thinks, furiously._ You allowed her to die. 

_But those thoughts are not his own; they are seditious, emotional, the thoughts that Anakin would have. So he does not voice them._

_“It is troubling, that you would even be tempted to lose control, when you have been doing so well,” Palpatine continues. “If you find Skywalker--you have less than two weeks to do so, lest you forget--if you find him, you must get him to trust you, of course, which might only be done by telling him certain things about his own family; but you_ must _restrain yourself. Let him be as emotional as he wishes; encourage it. For this was necessary in order for you to Fall, and you necessarily got rid of it later. But be careful, Lord Vader, be careful…” There is only kindness in Palpatine’s eyes; kindness, and worry...and, if he looks further, a need to be obeyed. “Be careful that you do not spend too much of yourself in return.”_

It did not matter what Ruya’s presence was doing to him; he could not lose control. That was the greatest difference between himself and Anakin: control. Anakin had lacked it. Vader possessed it, in great quantities; he knew it, and his Master had told him so. 

He would have control. 

And to do that would require a complicated thing: to spare Ruya Naberrie, but to forget why. It would require him to believe a contradiction. 

But that was hardly a matter of difficulty for him. 

“You--” Luke was speaking now, and with his thoughts sorted and his memories safely behind the wall, Vader turned his attention back to the present, _where it belonged._ “You won’t kill her, right?” 

Vader tipped his helmet down to regard the two of them. Luke was the picture of fear, his eyes wide, expression wary; and yet he stood between Vader and Ruya with one arm flung out in front of the child, as if he could protect her. As if he could stop Vader from killing her if he decided to do so. 

And then there was Ruya, who looked at least half terrified...and also defiant. 

Ah, yes. The Naberrie spirit. 

“I will not,” Vader said at last.

Luke’s expression changed so quickly it was almost comical. Where he had previously been afraid, he was immediately shocked, his mouth open and eyebrows raised. 

“You--you won’t?” he stammered. “But, but I thought--you said--she just--you-- _why?_ ”

There was to be no _why._

He wanted to tell Luke. The information was begging to be revealed, begging to come out; Luke had been lied to. Information had been kept from him, and so far Vader was the only person who he could depend on to tell him things. The Dark Side would mean truth. If Vader ruined that now, it would lessen the chances of turning Luke. 

_Five days._

But he could not. Anakin had not been Dark. Remembering him would weaken _Vader’s_ own hold on the Dark Side, on _control,_ and he could never risk that. 

“Because I see fit to,” Vader replied stonily, before turning around. “We must continue toward the hospital; there the child will be returned to her family, and we will find transport. Hurry.” 

“I can hear you,” came a small voice, and Vader realized it was...Ruya, he reminded himself, her name was Ruya. 

Ruya. And that was the other problem. 

Ruya meant “clear sight” in Naboo. 

And he knew that was one of the names he and...one of the names _they_ considered, in the possibility that their child was a girl. He remembered the list clearly, now, and wished he didn’t. 

Jamil, Cyrus, Luke. 

Aliyah, Jobal, Ruya, Leia. 

The latter was part of his hatred for the accursed Princess of Alderaan. From the moment he heard that Bail Organa had a daughter named Leia--three years past Mustafar, he had learned that--he had wished her dead. 

The fact that she was now friends with _his son_ did not please him. 

“You don’t need to talk about me like I’m not here,” Ruya said, seeming to gain a little more confidence. 

“I did not kill you,” Vader said. “Simply be grateful and walk in silence.” 

“I don’t need to be grateful.” Ruya crossed her arms. “ _You_ should be grateful, since this is going to make you be nicer.” 

_Nicer?_

Vader decided immediately that it was a very, very good thing he had only discovered Luke when his son was a full grown man. 

“That will not happen,” he said. “Ever.” 

“Ruya, just stick by me,” he heard Luke muttering to her. “Don’t talk to him, it’ll just make things worse.” 

Yes. Apparently his job was to make things worse. 

And it frustrated him to no end that Luke seemed to be open and friendly to anyone _but_ him. 

“Luke, I hope you understand,” Vader said, turning slightly, “that if the child grows weary, you will have to carry her. We are not stopping.” 

“Yes,” Luke said, his tone changing immediately; back to wary and fearful. “I understand.” 

“Good.” Vader faced forward again. “Let us move.” 

  
  


Sola was growing more nervous. Aphra didn’t want to speculate, but she figured it was because of the mangled hand they’d found about half a mile back. 

“It’s not your kid,” she said. “It’s someone else, it’s a man.” 

“Oh, just shut up,” Sola snapped. “You’ve never had any kids, so why would you understand?” 

Aphra fell silent. Traveling with this woman was more tense by the minute. Besides, Pandaki was growing tired, his breathing more labored; they would need to stop soon. 

And she was really, really starting to wonder what had happened to Jamet. 

They walked in silence, footsteps crunching softly on the floor of the jungle. Despite the silence, despite the daytime--krayt dragons were nocturnal creatures--Aphra kept looking over her shoulder. 

She couldn’t shake the feeling that one of the dragons was following them. 

Sola stopped suddenly, and Aphra had to grab the back of Pandaki’s jacket to keep him from bumping into the Naboo woman. 

“You all right?” she asked Pandaki, and cringed. Asking if someone was all right was an obvious indicator of sentimentality. 

“Yes,” he said. 

“Okay, I don’t care.” 

_Shut up, Aphra. That’s worse._

Shaking her head at herself, Aphra stepped around Pandaki. “Sola?”

Sola Naberrie was absolutely still, her head bent toward the ground. Staring. Slowly, she knelt and touched the ground. 

“Sola,” Aphra demanded, walking forward. “What is it?”

“Stop!” Sola raised a hand. “Do you see this?” 

There were _tears_ in Sola’s eyes. Tears of happiness. Suddenly, Aphra had a very good idea of what the woman was looking at. 

Aphra followed her gaze to the ground. 

There were tracks in the ground; footprints. They were barely visible, but they were there. Aphra didn’t know as much about humanoid tracks, but these appeared to be the size of a child’s. 

“Ruya,” Sola whispered. “We’re on her trail.” 

_Thank goodness,_ Aphra thought. 

“All right,” she said, standing up. “Let’s find her, then.” 

“Yes.” Sola wiped her face furiously. “Yes, sorry.” She looked back at the ground. “We’re coming, darling.” 

Aphra wanted her to shut up, but she didn’t have the heart to say anything.

“And when I find you…” An expression of anger passed over her face. “I’m going to make sure you _never_ leave my sight again.” 

Aphra’s eyebrows shot up. She almost felt sorry for little Ruya. When--or if--they found her, that kid was in for the ass-whipping of her life. 

  
  
  


The faculty at the hospital gave Piett and Veers two speeders to use. Beyond that, they received no other help. It was all Veers expected from them, really; any kind of Imperial presence, no matter how small, must have made them extremely nervous. 

Especially if Lord Vader had visited the hospital himself. 

He and Piett rode mostly in silence as dawn approached, busy searching for the site of the carnage. Beyond that, Piett was anxious. Veers could tell that just by looking at him, and from what he knew about his friend. The Admiral most certainly did not want to go into a place where man-eating dragons had emerged from; but it was their best bet. Since Lord Vader had not returned to the _Executor,_ he must have had a reason for it; and the clearest reason that Veers could see was that he was busy hunting down the dragons. 

At last they had arrived at the site, an open field littered by now with muddy dragon tracks, dried blood, ripped earth, and the body parts that had initially horrified them. Now, it was old news. 

Still, as he dismounted from his speeder, Veers couldn’t help the distinct feeling that they were being _watched._

No matter. Soon they would be down that hole and away from the searching eyes. Veers patted his belt; yes, there was his set of blasters. Everything was ready. 

The other speeder came to a stop, and soon Piett was beside him. 

“I certainly hope you know what you’re doing,” he said, his face the picture of disapproval. 

“Oh, I do.” Veers grinned; he was enjoying this far too much. “I’ve had enough diplomacy and espionage. They do not suit the Empire.” 

“I think they ‘suit the Empire’ just fine,” Piett grumbled as they walked towards the giant hole in the ground. “You just don’t have the brains to negotiate with anyone.” 

“No, I have the brains for strategy, which is out of style.” Veers stopped at the entrance to the hole and pulled a flashlight out of his jacket. Clicking it on, he could see that beyond the clawmarks in the earth, there was a real durasteel floor at the bottom; they were entering some kind of stronghold. “Most likely the scientists are down here, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps.” Piett hung back slightly. “But why? They were chased out of the facility, now the hospital…” His eyes glinted. “But where did they go?”

“That’s my line of thought exactly.” Veers peered further into the hole, trying to see if there was a sort of ladder or something he could--

Without warning, the ground caved suddenly under him. He slid down, somehow managing to hold onto the flashlight; in the distance, he could hear Piett shouting his name. But the ride was over in a moment; covered in dirt that spilled into his mouth and nose, Veers realized he wasn’t moving and was sitting on hard floor. He sat up, coughing. 

“I’m all right,” he said. 

Up above, he could see Piett shaking his head at him. 

“I’ll make it easier for you.” Veers pulled a rope out of his jacket and tossed it upward. “Secure this and climb down. That way we can get out easily.” 

“You make it sound like we’ll have to make a fast escape,” Piett shouted down, but he immediately knelt down and began tying a knot. 

“Maybe we’ll have to,” Veers shouted back. 

“All right--” Piett was ignoring his remark. That was fine. “All right, I’m coming down.” 

Veers waited patiently while his friend turned around and began to inch down the rope, foot by foot. At last, Piett was standing on solid ground. 

“The princess has landed,” Veers said. 

Piett didn’t even answer him. He just faced forward, and Veers followed him, for the first time noticing their surroundings. The rising sun shone down from the hole above them onto winding passages, all of which--as far as they could see--were immaculately clean. There seemed to be doors everywhere, each leading somewhere mysterious. 

They had been right. This was the new laboratory. 

“Venka’s down here, I’d guess,” Veers said. “And Lord Vader with him.” 

Piett chuckled. “Both of them? If that’s the case, we’d better hurry before Venka realizes he can’t breathe.” 

Veers laughed. It helped to clear the tension. 

And then something cried out in the distance. 

Piett started. “Someone else is here. One of the scientists?” 

Veers didn’t answer. He just listened, closing his eyes to better concentrate. He counted, one...two…

The cry came again. Slightly closer. 

Veers opened his eyes, turning slowly to look at Piett. 

“No,” he said. “Because that is not the cry of any humanoid being.” 

  
  


Why had Vader spared Ruya?

Luke hadn’t thought about it right away; he’d been confused, but his relief had eclipsed that by far. From what he knew about Darth Vader, it was not beyond him at all to kill a child, as awful as it sounded; Luke had the sense that Vader felt she was interrupting anything he wanted to accomplish with Luke. So he was merely relieved that Vader hadn’t hurt yet another person who Luke had managed to connect with. For once, no one had died because of him; he considered that a victory. 

But as they walked, and his relief had slowly vanished, it occurred to him that what had happened made no sense. Ruya’s presence would make things harder for both of them. It would actually make things _better_ for Luke, because for once Vader wouldn’t be able to discuss their... _relationship_ and what he wanted Luke to do and attack every decision that Luke had made in his life. But Ruya would be an annoyance, at best, to the Sith Lord. 

So why had he spared her? 

One clue was her surname: Naberrie. Luke didn’t know anything about it, other than that it had something to do with Naboo royalty; but it had clearly meant something to _Vader._ The way he had said Ruya’s name, almost...almost numbly, as if realizing something; what did it mean? 

_You could ask,_ said a small voice in his head. _You could ask him._

Yeah, sure. And in doing so, he’d be signing his own death warrant. Clearly, this was--for once-- _personal_ to Vader. 

And that was exactly why Luke was curious about it. 

It could be a sign of what he’d been searching for over the last day: humanity. Something _personal_ meant something _human._

He couldn’t believe this. He was going to ask. 

As they walked, Luke focused, bending all his concentration toward the thing he hated the most: communicating with Vader in his mind. He reached out into the Force, feeling comfort in his own strength, dwelling on it...and then pushing it outward toward Vader’s darkness. In contrast to Luke’s small star, Vader’s presence in the Force felt like a veritable black hole, a well of nothingness set to devour him. But not an aggressive black hole. No, this one was still, silent, waiting patiently for him to come to it, like...like a dragon, waiting for prey. 

He shivered. _Don’t think about dragons._

But this time, Vader was not so accessible through the Force. Whatever had happened back there, the temporary swell of emotions Luke had felt, was locked down tightly. The shields were like a stone wall, impenetrable. 

Luke waited, unsure of what to do, and then--

_What is it?_

Vader’s mind-voice already sounded impatient. Luke swallowed hard. 

_I have a question._

There was a long silence. Luke waited, sure he was about to be denied…

_Yes?_

Even more impatient. Luke tried to decide whether to go on, and finally decided that he had to know. 

_Why did you spare Ruya’s life?_

Immediately, intense anger flooded their bond. Luke withdrew quickly, regretting everything, but not quickly enough. 

_You will_ not _ask me that question again. Simply know that the girl is alive and I will not kill her. I had my reasons, and they shall not be discussed!_

Well. That was that. 

Vader kept walking, as if nothing had happened; Ruya wouldn’t even know that a conversation had even occurred. But Luke felt the difference, in the Force: the shields went up even tighter. Unfortunately, that only served to make him more curious. 

What did Vader have to hide? 

Abruptly, there was a tug on his sleeve. Luke looked down; Ruya was gazing imploringly up at him. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

“I’m hungry,” she said. 

Luke sighed. That was another question he would have to ask. 

“Vader,” he said, thankful that Ruya’s presence gave him an excuse not to call Vader...what he wanted Luke to call him. 

“We are not stopping,” came the curt reply. “When we reach the hospital, we will find food.” 

Luke shrugged at Ruya. He was hungry as well-- _starving,_ in fact--but he was not arguing with that decree. He just hoped Ruya did the same. He was afraid what would happen if--

“Well, I want food now,” she said. 

“My answer will not be changed,” came Vader’s reply. 

But not even that was able to cow Ruya. 

“You’re taking me back to my parents, right?” she said. 

There was a brief hesitation. “That is correct.” 

“They hate you.” 

“That...is also correct.” 

Luke wanted to tell her to shut up. But he was also very curious to see where Ruya was going with this. 

“They want to kill you.” 

Luke suddenly decided he did not want to see where Ruya was going with this.

“Ruya,” he whispered, “that’s enough.” 

But Vader had not given up either. 

“That is _correct,_ child,” he growled. 

“So, if you don’t want them to try to kill you,” she went on happily, “maybe if you say you gave me food, they won’t do anything.” 

Luke blinked. That was a surprisingly strong argument. 

Apparently, Vader didn’t know what to make of that either. He stopped walking completely, turned around, and _glared_ down at Ruya. Remarkable, how Luke could _feel_ a glare in the Force. 

“You--” His voice was the most commanding that Luke had heard it thus far. It was not anything that could be refused. “You dare--”

Then he stopped. 

“You are _correct,_ ” he snarled, and Luke blinked again. This day was full of surprises. “The first tree we see that has viable fruit, we will stop, and you may eat.” He pointed a finger at her. “But that is _all!_ ” 

Ruya looked up at him, the picture of innocence. 

With another snarl, Vader spun back and began walking, faster than before. 

Luke couldn’t help it; he shot Ruya a grin. “That’s more than I’ve been able to do,” he whispered, hoping Vader couldn’t hear him. “How’d you get so good at arguing?” 

Ruya offered him a mischievous smile. 

“Padmé Amidala was my aunt,” she whispered back, shyly. “She was a queen once, and she died before I was born, but I’ve watched all her speeches. She was _great._ ” 

Padmé Amidala. Luke had heard that name before; now he knew why. 

“Well,” he said. “That’s very cool.” 

Ahead, Vader’s hand clenched into a fist. 

Maybe he’d been listening after all. 

  
  


As the day wore on, the pleasant temperature turned sweltering; Felucia’s large sun beat down on them, even through the trees, and Aphra began to feel as if they were trapped in a greenhouse. 

_In three hundred years, Felucia is predicted to become too hot for human life,_ she thought. _Now I know why._

And it was only making things worse for Pandaki. 

“Sola,” she called. “Can we _please stop?_ ”

Sola turned around with a sigh, her mouth opening; then she seemed to notice that both of her companions were exhausted. 

“All right,” she said. “It’s getting near lunch anyway.” 

“Do you think--” Pandaki sat with a gasp. “Do you think we could risk a fire?” 

Sola started to speak, but Aphra cut her off. “No. We’ll do one tonight, I’ll shoot some sort of creature, but even then we can only do it for fifteen minutes.” 

Pandaki frowned. “Why? Is there danger?” 

Aphra couldn’t explain it; she couldn’t explain how she knew that there was some kind of dragon around them. 

“I think so,” was all she could say. “But in the meantime, I have some rations I brought with me.” 

The sound of laughter came from behind her. 

Aphra turned to glare at Sola. “Do you have to be so high and mighty all the time?”

“Oh, that’s not what I intended,” Sola said; her eyes were twinkling. “It’s just that...I have something you might enjoy a bit better.” 

The two women sat, Aphra looking at Sola curiously. As she watched, Sola reached into her sack and drew a cloth that clearly contained some kind of food. Then, Sola unwrapped the cloth to reveal ten slices of the most perfect bread Aphra had ever seen. 

Aphra stared. “What is _that?_ ”

Sola laughed. “Five blossom bread. It’s a Naboo delicacy.” 

“It looks all right,” Aphra said with a shrug. It looked delicious, in fact; her mouth was already watering. But she could tell there was something else in the sack. “We’ll have to go get some water, though. Something to wash it down.”

Sola smiled, reached into the sack, and drew out a bottle of wine. At the sight of it, Aphra could physically feel herself relaxing. 

“Now that’s a meal,” she said with a grin. “Sola, you’re my kind of gal.” 

Sola’s smile grew a bit wider. “Glad to hear it.” 

  
  


That lunch of five blossom bread and wine was the best food that Aphra could remember tasting in a long time. Pandaki did not want any wine, so Sola and Aphra drank the bottle; and by the end of it, Aphra had learned a great deal about Sola. She had learned that Sola’s sister had been the tragic Queen Amidala; that she had had no desire for any kind of sexual partner for most of her life, but Amil hadn’t either, so she’d married him at twenty-three; her oldest daughter, Ryoo, was only a few years younger than Aphra herself; Amil, as a politician advocating for many anti-Imperial policies, had insisted on taking Sola’s name as a way to protect himself, and out of respect for her; Sola had once wanted to be a politician, but after Amidala’s death, had settled for being a historian in the Royal Archives; and finally, that this was not the first time Ruya had proven rebellious. 

“Okay,” Aphra said, laughing. “So, what did she do?”

“She had a fire incident, first of all,” Sola said, laughing with her. “I don’t know where it got into her, maybe one of her friends was going through a pyro phase; but one day I came into her room to see that her curtains were in flames!” 

Aphra laughed. “To be honest, that sounds like something I’d have done.”

Sola frowned. “You know, I haven’t heard much out of you. What was _your_ childhood like?” 

“I’m good at listening,” Aphra said, though after some wine she felt more in the mood to share. “But if you want to know, I’ll tell you. My parents both loved science, but my dad...well, he was an asshole. Then my mom didn’t...well, needless to say, she had book smarts, not street smarts. She was killed by Raiders. Also we didn’t have the money for any kind of security, because my dad had spent it up.” She grinned, put her arms behind her head and leaned back against a tree. “So, when I grew up, I didn’t just confront him about it. I burned down all his stuff.” 

“Well, I see why you wouldn’t like to share things,” Sola said. 

Aphra snorted. “I’ve gotten over it, though it took me a while. My dad’s a real piece of shit. I mean, he’s part of the reason my mother was killed. Wasn’t his fault, but if he’d been there she wouldn’t have died. Then when I went after my doctorate, he revealed a bunch of information about what I’d been doing that got my doctorate suspended. Then he tried to get me to...help him or something. Just for his own gain. He didn’t know Alderaan had been destroyed, didn’t know I’d worked for Vader, didn’t know I’d almost suffocated to death in space. He joined my crew for a while, but he continued to undermine me. We parted ways.”

Sola frowned. “You...worked for Darth Vader?”

“Oh.” Aphra smirked. “Whoops.” Sola was going to find that awful, she realized; the Naboo woman was already looking alarmed. “Don’t worry, it didn’t last long, and it was only for money. It ended when he shoved me out the airlock after I told the Emperor a bunch of information about him. And failed a mission. I still…” She held back a shudder. “Still get nightmares about that. So you can guess I was thrilled when he showed up here.” 

Sola’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute. He’s here?” A moment later, she sighed. “Should’ve known. There were Rebels in the hospital temporarily. I’m personally on their side, but I try not to look it; I wish they hadn’t come. My mother said to me, ‘He’s going to come, Sola. I just know it.’ I told her not to make Ruya nervous. Then she vanished in the hospital, and came back; and then she disappeared again.” Sola’s expression took on a faraway look. “You know Luke Skywalker?” 

“We’re good friends.” 

“Well, there’s at least one good person you’ve come in contact with.” Sola smiled. “I haven’t met him personally, but...someone I once knew...had contact with him. Then he blew up the Death Star, and…” She sighed dreamily. “We’d been waiting for that for years; you’d never believe the celebration that went on in the palace that night. Parties, dancing, singing...all secret, of course. Naboo has a very heavy Imperial presence, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” Aphra rubbed a hand over her injured leg; it was still tender. “I’ve been there. It’d be a lot prettier if not for the huge warships.” 

“Spring on Naboo is the best, isn’t it?” Sola seemed to be somewhere else for a moment, then focused back in on Aphra. “But you don’t seem to agree much with the Empire. Why haven’t you done anything to stop it?”

“Stop it?” Aphra laughed. “There’s no stopping the Empire, Sola. It comes for you whether you want it to. I happened to come for it; nothing else fit my resume. But I paid a heavy price; and I’m far from the only one.” She shook her head. “No, there’s no point to it. Look, I admire you for doing what you can, but there’s just no point. Too many people get killed.” 

Sola raised an eyebrow. “Someone close to you did?”

“Yeah, sure. Years ago. No one’s been close to me ever since.”

“Well, I pity you for that,” Sola said softly. “What’s happened to me, Doctor Aphra, hasn’t been pretty. My sister died at the hands of the Empire. My husband was almost assassinated two times. My children have been in danger; my people are enslaved; I, myself, have been poisoned. But that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped trying.” 

“Well, no wonder things keep happening to you,” Aphra said wryly. 

Sola laughed--and laughed, and the laughter was so infectious Aphra couldn’t help joining in, and both of them kept on laughing until they had almost forgotten what they were laughing at. 

At last Sola sat back with a sigh, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. “You know, Aphra, I really wish I hadn’t shot you.” 

“No problem.” Aphra patted the wounded leg. “It’s my pleasure to be shot.” 

Sola laughed again, and Aphra wondered if she was going to have to laugh again--and then Pandaki touched her shoulder. 

“Aphra,” he said, “I think we need to leave.” 

“Why?” Aphra asked him. Technically, she knew they had to, because it had certainly been longer than fifteen minutes; but this was the most connecting she’d done in about ten years, and she knew that once she stopped she’d go back to being a cynical jerk. 

“We have to leave.” Pandaki shook his head. “We’ve been here too long.” 

Aphra growled. “You’re right, you’re right. Come on, Sola, party time’s over.” 

While Sola packed up the food and drink, Aphra stood, pulling Pandaki up with her, and looked around. There didn’t seem to be anything there; and yet, the feeling had returned, that something was there. 

Pandaki was right. They should have left. 

Because, in the far, far distance, three trees were moving--swaying. Back and forth, just gently. It could’ve been the wind. But none of the other trees were moving. 

_The dragon survived._

“Sola,” Aphra said, “Sola, get up. Now.” 

_It has the combined genes of the Greater and Canyon krayts._

“Why?” Sola was still packing up. “Is there danger?” 

The trees kept swaying. 

_“Now,”_ Aphra said through her teeth. 

_Something...invisible attacked me. I didn’t see it, but it rammed the tree a few times._

A hypothesis required a test. 

Aphra looked directly at the trees; no, not _at_ the trees, far away as they were. At the space inbetween them, that she had to squint to focus on. And stared. Stared, keeping the look in her eyes hard as iron, never once blinking. 

The trees stopped moving. 

“Aphra.” Sola touched her arm. “Aphra, what is it?” 

At last, Aphra let go, turning to look at Sola and Pandaki. “Doctor, you’re about to feel sorry all over again.” 

Pandaki’s shoulders slumped. “I was afraid of this; but tell me. What is it?” 

“What is _what?_ ” Sola demanded. 

“Shh,” Aphra hissed. “Not so loud.” 

Realization dawned in Sola’s eyes. “There’s a dragon somewhere around here.” 

“Yep.” Aphra glanced to her right; none of the trees had started moving yet. “For the last few hours I’ve suspected we’re being followed. I was right. In the space between those trees, about a quarter mile away--” She pointed. “There is a dragon that can turn invisible, or camouflage itself, or something. The Alpha, I like to call it, because it’s got the best--or worst, if you’re us--combination of krayt genes that’s ever existed.” She smiled grimly. “It's been hunting us for the last five hours." 

Sola gasped, eyes going wide in terror. "Then why aren't we dead?"

"Because Canyon krayts like to play with their prey." Aphra looked back at where she knew the dragon was. "So it's waiting." 

Pandaki gripped her arm. "For--for what?"

To that, Aphra could only shake her head. "I don't know."


	19. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader's babysitting problems continue; Aphra, Pandaki, and Sola come up with a plan; Piett and Veers come to an important conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to my wonderful beta, KaelinaLovesLomaris! 
> 
> Yet ANOTHER gore warning; once again, it is short, but I thought I'd warn anyway because I don't know who that might be a problem for.

“But why would it wait?” Pandaki asked, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “Why wouldn’t it attack immediately? Both Canyon and Greater krayts would do that. Why?”

“I don’t know,” Aphra snapped, “you made him!” 

“Just calm down a moment,” said Sola, who seemed to be taking the revelation that their companion had created these monsters pretty lightly. “We have a decision to make; the dragon isn’t here yet. What are we going to do?” 

“We need to figure out  _ why  _ it’s waiting,” Pandaki said, and Aphra thought he sounded a bit too excited for the situation. “You see, we didn’t study it before it escaped; we didn’t get the chance to. It…” He sighed heavily. “It escaped in the middle of a test that was supposed to determine how fast it could run, and for how long.” 

“Wait a minute.” Aphra gripped his arm. “You mean you don’t  _ know  _ that?”

Pandaki looked at her like she was an idiot. She did not appreciate that. 

“We tried,” he said. “We tried to test it, and then it ran away. How many times do I have to--”

“I don’t care.” She pointed behind her, although since they’d been talking, there was now no way of knowing where the dragon was. “We have to figure out what weaknesses that thing has. Are there any?”

“Ah.” Pandaki frowned. “The chestplate is the same?”

“Resistant to most weapons?” Aphra sighed. “Okay. Is it invisible all the time?”

“I…” Pandaki shrugged. “I don’t think so. We didn’t know it could do that until it made its escape.”

“Then it can’t.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he said nervously. “It could be something it’s grown into.”

“Well, nothing’s invisible all the time,” Aphra snapped. “We’ll have to find out what causes it. But for now…” She looked over her shoulder. One particular tree about ten feet closer than where the dragon had last been was shaking. “Sola, watch that tree. Stare it down, let that monster know you’re looking right at her.” 

“All right,” Sola said. Her voice shook only slightly. 

“So,” said Aphra, turning back to face Pandaki, “we know that it is possible that it can’t be invisible all the time. What else?”

“As a mix of the Canyon and Greater dragons, she knows that we’re here whether we move or not,” Pandaki said. “So there’s no point in remaining still, we’ll just be like sitting ducks. That, she gets from the Canyons. But where Canyons hunt in packs, she does not; and she is also closer to the size of the Greater krayts. So I would expect…” Realization dawned in Pandaki’s eyes. “If we were to lead her directly through the thickest point of the jungle, she would lose the chase--” 

“And if we cover our tracks, we have a chance at escape!” Aphra grinned. “I thought you were pretty injured. Where’d you get all this brilliance?”

“I happen to listen before I act,” Pandaki said wryly, “which you do not appear too skilled at doing.” 

“You got me there,” Aphra admitted. 

“Aphra, another tree is moving,” Sola piped up. 

Aphra instantly turned toward her; she was not going to let a heart-to-heart conversation get in her way again. This was why she didn’t like to have friends. 

“Where?” she asked. 

“About a meter forward.” Sola’s voice was calm, but Aphra could tell she was terrified out of her mind. Another point towards her liking Sola. 

“I see it.” Aphra opened her mouth; then she thought twice about it. “Pandaki, what should we do?”

“Head toward the thickest point of the jungle,” he said without hesitation. “Do you happen to recall where that is? I’m afraid the last day has been a blur for me.” 

“Uh…” Aphra thought back to her markings. “A little southeast, but not far. We’ll have to cross a pretty bare area to get there, though, which could get us in trouble with Her Majesty back there.” 

Sola snorted. 

“Then we’ll make for that,” Pandaki said. “Sola, do you know where we’re going?”

“I do.” After one last glance back--the tree had not stopped swaying--Sola stepped forward. “I’ll lead. Aphra, keep a lookout.” 

“I will,” Aphra said, but just as she started moving she felt Pandaki’s hand on her arm. “What?”

“Thank you,” he said quietly, “for trusting me. After what I did.”

Okay, now he was apologizing. That was...that was good. And Aphra had to admit she liked him well enough, despite everything. 

That still didn’t mean she’d forgiven him for engineering krayt dragons. 

  
  


Luke hadn’t realized it, but he really was hungry; and Vader seemed to have realized this as well. Despite his growling and snarling to himself like some wild animal, he led them faster. The sun was rising steadily, and when it was high in the Felucian sky, they stopped in front of several trees whose branches were overladen with fruit. 

Exhausted, Luke slid down against one of the trees, trying to ignore the fact that Vader was looking right at him. 

_ Judge me all you want,  _ he thought tiredly.  _ I want to sit down.  _

“Yay!” Exuberant, Ruya ran toward the trees, exhibiting no signs of the child who moments earlier had been lagging along at his side, shoulders slumped and looking as if he might have to carry her. 

Abruptly, he realized he didn’t even know whether the food was good or not.

“Ruya,” he called. 

She spun back around to look at him, already plucking a fruit for herself. “What?”

Luke sighed, dragged himself up, pointedly didn’t look at Vader, and walked over to the tree. “You don’t know if that’s poisonous or not.”

“Oh.” Ruya cocked her head. “They could be poisonous?”

“Yes, they can.” Luke couldn’t sense anything wrong in the Force, but it was worth it just to be careful anyway. He took Ruya’s fruit. “I’ll try it first.” 

In an instant, the dark tendrils of Vader’s presence shot out like dragon wings to wrap around him. Irritated, Luke turned to glare at Vader, but the presence did not abate. 

With a sigh, he bit into the fruit. 

Nothing happened. 

But then he wondered--as he looked at Ruya, who was now pulling fruit after fruit off the tree--if he might do something to make things a little more fun for the both of them. 

“See?” he said with a laugh. “There was no harm in--” He gasped, trying to act as if he couldn’t breathe, making his eyes go wide. “I--” With pretend desperation, he looked at Ruya. “Ruya, I don’t--”

The dark presence coiled around him, stiflingly. He barely noticed. 

“Luke?” she cried, and he almost felt bad for scaring her so much. “Luke, are you okay?” 

With one last shudder, he dropped to the ground. 

Fury erupted from Vader, fury and...and fear, and that was odd enough that Luke pretended it wasn’t happening. “ _ LUKE!”  _

“Luke!” shouted Ruya at the same time, dropping to her knees beside him. “No, no, no,  _ please,  _ Luke--”

She sounded terrified. 

Okay, Luke decided, that was enough. 

Stopping his fake shudders immediately, Luke wiped the hair out of his face and sat up, grinning. 

Ruya froze. 

So did the presence that was now mere inches behind him. 

“Luke?” she said. “You’re--are you okay?”

He laughed. “You should’ve seen the look on your face.” 

Ruya stared at him, and then he  _ saw  _ it dawn on her; her eyes widened, her jaw dropped, and then she shoved him. 

“Hey, come on,” she whined. “That’s not  _ fair! _ ” 

“Of course it is.” Luke ruffled her hair. “Now you  _ absolutely  _ know it’s safe to eat the fruit.” 

She rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him. “That was still mean.” 

Luke nodded toward the armload of food she was still carrying. “Do you want to eat all that or not?” 

Ruya giggled, and then she bit into one of the fruits. All right, Luke reasoned, she was definitely over it. 

“What were you  _ thinking? _ ” thundered a voice near his ear, and then he was yanked to his feet and made to face Vader. 

Okay, Vader was definitely  _ not  _ over it. 

“Calm down, will you?” Luke tried to cross his arms, but the iron grip on his arm wouldn’t let him. “It was a  _ joke!  _ She’s away from her family, she’s lost, she’s been having to deal with  _ you  _ all day, probably a monster straight out of her nightmares--”

“You are trying to change the subject.” Vader’s tone was cold and clipped. 

“All right, fine. I wanted to make her laugh!”

“And what did you think of  _ me?”  _ Vader hissed, no doubt in an effort to keep Ruya from hearing what was being said. “What, exactly, did you suppose I would think when I saw you take a bite of a fruit you suggested might be poisoned, begin to  _ convulse  _ and then fall to the ground as if dead!”

“And I told you  _ it was a joke!”  _ Luke looked over his shoulder to see if Ruya was listening; the girl was happily munching away at the fruit. “Listen, I don’t know if you understand this--”

“I understand that you have apparently received so lax an education that you think such insulting  _ pranks  _ are  _ amusing, _ ” Vader said instead of actually  _ listening to him.  _

“Oh, would you just stop and--”

“When I bring you back to the  _ Executor,  _ and you happen to pull off such a stunt again, I will happily ensure that you understand the consequences of--”

“It’s  _ you  _ who doesn’t understand,” Luke said, determined that for once he would be heard, “that not  _ every single thing is about you! _ ” 

Vader was silent for exactly five seconds. Luke counted. 

“Then you truly do not understand me,” he said. “You make it sound as if I am self-obsessed.” 

_ Are you kidding me?  _

“Oh, sure.” This time, he was successful in snatching himself away to cross his arms. “You’re absolutely not selfish, no way. Every single time you talk to me, I need to give up my friends, I need to think about myself--”

“That is not selfishness,” Vader said coldly. “That is logic. You are capable only of protecting one person: yourself. We may wish it were otherwise, but it is not, and the sooner you accept that, the better.”

Luke shivered. The problem was that he couldn’t argue with what Vader was saying. He’d tried to protect people, he had tried all his life. He’d wanted to go home to continue helping his aunt and uncle; he’d been too late. He’d left Tatooine to be with Biggs; Biggs had been shot down. He’d left Dagobah to save Han and Leia--no, he couldn’t think about that. But his experience told him that trying to save people was worthless; it led nowhere. He expected that that was why Vader was trying to “save” him by turning him--

Did that mean Vader  _ did  _ care about him? In his own twisted sort of way?

No. He couldn’t think about that on top of everything. 

But regardless, part of him wanted to accept what Vader was saying, to turn in the hopes of still saving his friends...and he knew that was wrong. He knew his friends had value, that they mattered, that  _ everyone  _ mattered. He knew that the Dark Side was wrong; he knew that selfishness was wrong. 

The problem was, he just didn’t know  _ why.  _

“This is why I can’t talk to you,” he said. “Nothing is your fault, is it?”

The Dark Side  _ boiled  _ with rage, suddenly, pressing in on him. Luke shrank back from that overwhelming presence; though what he’d done to cause that reaction this time, he had no idea. 

“You speak,” Vader said, his voice low and deadly, “of what you  _ do not know,  _ child.” 

Luke bristled. “I’m not--”

There was a hand, suddenly, pulling on his sleeve. Luke looked down--it was Ruya. 

He leaned down instantly, forgetting the conversation at hand. “What is it?”

“There’s something…” She pointed, to somewhere over Vader’s shoulder. “There’s a noise from over there.” 

Vader turned instantly, seeming almost to grow larger in the threat of danger. “We must leave, immediately. We have stayed too long.” 

Luke’s stomach rumbled; he hadn’t eaten lunch, he realized. “Ruya, can you give me some of that fruit?” 

“Sure.” She still had one in her hand; dark red juice stained the corners of her mouth. As she pressed two of the fruits into his hand, Luke had to wonder just how many she’d eaten. 

Luke took a bite...and grinned. 

“Stars, that’s good,” he said, and took another bite before facing forward. Vader, who had apparently been waiting for him, turned around. 

“Now we will not stop again,” said the Sith, “until we reach the hospital.” He hesitated for a moment; Luke couldn’t tell if he was thinking, or something else. “Child, what sort of noise did you hear?”

Ruya went white at being addressed by Vader; a stark change from the pure, unadulterated  _ sass  _ she’d given him just half an hour ago. Maybe that was her kind of defense mechanism. 

_ Just like Leia.  _

Leia, he realized, almost freezing at the thought. So much had happened over the last day and a half, he hadn’t thought--he hadn’t wondered--Wedge had made him promise to comm her if anything went wrong, to come back. 

_ She’s got to think I’m in some terrible trouble,  _ Luke thought guiltily.  _ Which I am, but...she might think I’m dead.  _

_ She might come here herself.  _

That thought of all things was alarming; Luke did  _ not  _ want Leia showing up on Felucia. Between the dragons and Darth Vader…

That’s what he was going to do when they got to the hospital, he decided. He was going to call Leia and tell her everything--well,  _ almost  _ everything, except that one giant thing he supposed he’d accepted--that was going on. He owed it to her. 

“It was like...some sort of snuffling,” Ruya said quietly. “I don’t know, exactly. It was hard to hear. But it was close.” 

Vader looked back at her, but did not stop walking. 

“ _ How  _ close?” he asked. 

“Well--” Ruya scrunched up her face, obviously thinking. “I think it was--”

Abruptly, they all stopped walking. 

_ It was here,  _ Luke thought grimly. 

Right through the trees, not thirty yards in front of them, was the gigantic Greater krayt that had attacked them all the night before, hunkered down in a clearing with her back to them. 

_ Stay still,  _ said Vader inside his head, commanding.  _ Do not let the child speak. _

She was right at his side. Slowly, Luke brought his hand up and put it over her mouth, hoping she got the message. 

He looked down at her. The girl’s eyes were wide, but she nodded slowly. Good.

_ What is… _

Luke took a deep breath. He still hated this form of communication, still felt shivers up his spine every time he heard Vader’s voice inside his head, and sent something back in return. But it was necessary. 

_ What is she doing? _

For some reason, the dragon had not noticed them; and that was not unusual, because Luke knew that Greater krayts hunted by movement, but they also had superb hearing. Why hadn’t she heard them? Clearly, she was focused on whatever she was doing; she was making odd noises--snuffling was maybe not the best description, but Ruya had come close--and Luke couldn’t see her head, so close was the dragon bent over--

Luke’s stomach turned. 

Suddenly he had a very good idea of what the dragon was doing. 

_ She...is eating,  _ Vader thought to him a moment later, confirming his suspicions.  _ We must leave now, while we have the opportunity.  _

_ But… _ Luke looked past the dragon, or what he knew to be past the dragon; she was blocking their path. There, beyond several more rows of trees, was the edge of the jungle.  _ But the hospital is right there.  _

There was a moment of silence, a moment where Luke could feel pieces of reluctance, and disappointment, and sadness. 

_ I know, son.  _

_ Don’t call me son,  _ part of him wanted to snarl back; but those tiny pieces, those small glimpses, of feelings, gave him pause to wonder. To hope. He was reaching; he  _ knew  _ he was reaching, but still he wondered if that was the yet unseen humanity in Vader. 

_ Okay. Where should we go, then? _

Ruya was trembling under Luke’s hand; she’d put the pieces together as well. She knew what the dragon was doing. 

_ We will have to take a detour,  _ came the response.  _ Turn right and walk, and do not stop until I say you can.  _

Luke nodded, slowly.

_ NOW!  _

Luke turned, removing his hand from Ruya’s mouth so that he could grab her own small hand in his. Then he walked past the dragon, slowly, cautiously, over leaves and branches and all sorts of natural debris, making every effort to be as silent as possible. Ruya, at his side, seemed to be attempting to take very small breaths, which was a good idea. And then came Vader behind them, something that made Luke extremely nervous but which was by no means his biggest concern. Luke couldn’t even hear the Sith Lord’s trademark  _ ksssh-hah  _ breathing; maybe he had some sort of button on his armor that allowed him to control it. Maybe that’s how he’d surprised Luke during the duel at Bespin...

Not that it mattered. Not that any of that mattered, really; it was just Luke’s mind throwing up thoughts in an effort to distract himself from the sheer terror he felt. 

They went another few steps.The dragon continued eating, though the awful chewing,  _ sucking  _ noises were growing less. 

The hospital in the distance passed them by. 

Another few steps. One, two, three, four…

Luke looked back at the dragon. She had stopped chewing; now she was licking up the remnants, her large, black tongue slathering up the remains of the...whatever she was eating. Luke shuddered. 

_ Don’t think about it.  _

Five more steps. 

The dragon continued licking. 

Vader’s steps were heavier, but almost as silent. Still it made Luke nervous. 

Four more steps. They were almost to the end of the clearing. Then they could turn right, and be hidden from the dragon’s sight…

The dragon took one small bite, bone and organs crunching under her teeth. Ruya let out a whimper. 

Luke froze. 

The dragon raised her head. 

_ Do not move,  _ Vader thought at him, his mind-voice sounding desperate; but he didn’t need to tell Luke that. 

Slowly, the dragon turned around and looked straight at them, that intense gaze bent on the three of them. Memories pierced Luke’s mind: Vader’s oppressive hold keeping him in place, the awful, controlling tendrils around him--that same gaze focused on him--Dravos’ body bitten in half--

Seconds passed, and the dragon stared. One...two...three…

Ruya was still there; she might make a sound. Slowly, moving centimeter by centimeter, Luke raised his hand to cover her mouth. 

Eight...nine...ten…

A rumbling purr escaped the dragon’s throat, almost like that of a tooka; it caught Luke off guard, but still he did not move. She was...it was almost like she was studying them. 

Twelve...thirteen...fourteen…

The dragon stared. 

Ruya was shaking again. Luke couldn’t blame her; it was almost impossible to not break into a run. 

Seventeen...eighteen…

With one last rumble, and a hiss, the dragon turned around and returned to her meal. 

Luke released the breath he’d been holding, trying not to gasp, and he turned back around. 

_ Wait,  _ Vader said in his head.  _ Do not move.  _

_ Are you kidding me?  _ Luke snapped.  _ She could’ve just almost seen us, do you honestly think I’m not going to-- _

_ Whatever you do, young one, you will NOT MOVE.  _

Well. He couldn’t exactly refuse a command like that, could he? 

Excruciating seconds passed, as Luke and Ruya and Vader were forced to listen to minutes of the dragon devouring her prey, which could have been an animal, or any one of the humans, or...or even Aphra. 

_ No, no, no, don’t think-- _

Luke closed his eyes, trying to think of something else,  _ anything  _ else, and then--

_ Walk,  _ came the command at last.  _ But  _ **_be silent._ **

Taking another deep breath, Luke once again took Ruya’s hand and walked forward, putting his heel on the ground first to achieve maximum silence. It didn’t do everything--the leaves still crunched--but it was as much as he could do. He walked, looking over his shoulder constantly to make sure the dragon was still eating; she did not look back at them. 

But he remembered that gaze. He didn’t want that head turned on him again. The look in those dead eyes was merciless; it was completely cold, animalistic; it wanted nothing but blood. It could not be reasoned with. You could not domesticate a creature with such a look, and it was insane that Pandaki had thought he could do it in the first place. 

Luke wondered what had happened to Pandaki. 

They continued walking, silent as death, as sunlight continued to filter through the trees and the day grew progressively hotter. Eventually, Luke realized he was sweating; his shirt was absolutely soaked, and he desperately wanted to take off his jacket. 

But he couldn’t. He knew that. They couldn’t stop for anything. 

Out of nowhere, the ground  _ shook.  _ Luke spun around in a panic, already reaching with the hand that was holding Ruya’s for his blaster; but Vader’s firm hand on his shoulder stopped him. 

The dragon was not attacking them. 

The dragon had laid down to sleep. 

_ I would suggest that it is safe now,  _ Vader said in his mind.  _ As safe as it can be. But we cannot stop walking. We will head east, around this sector of the jungle. _

Luke nodded. Taking several deep breaths, he turned back around, and they resumed their detour to the hospital. 

  
  


Admiral Piett did not believe in ghosts. Several of the  _ Executor’s  _ officers did; he remembered that from when he’d first taken a position on board the Star Destroyer. They had whispered about grandmothers coming back to haunt them, things the Jedi could do if they weren’t exterminated in the correct way; Piett hadn’t believed any of it. He wasn’t superstitious. Of course, he believed that Lord Vader had abilities, abilities that should not be argued with; that was one matter. He had  _ seen  _ men die when Vader raised his fist. He had never seen ghosts, so he did not believe in them. 

But this underground structure was beginning to make him a little superstitious. The sun, no doubt, was growing higher and higher; but he and Veers would not know about it. As soon as they had left what was clearly the older part of this facility behind, the light faded behind them, and they had been left in almost complete darkness. 

They walked for almost an hour through that maze, trying to find their way in the dark, to follow the trail toward where Veers had suspected they might find Vader...and, hopefully, the little weasel that had gotten them into this sorry mess to begin with. And all the while, Piett began to imagine that things were lurking in the shadows on either side; things with claws, ghostly nightmares, waiting until the opportune moment to attack them. 

_ It’s absurd,  _ he told himself.  _ Ridiculous. If there were something here we’d have seen it.  _

But the longer they walked, the less rational Piett felt. At the beginning, it had been bad enough; but after an hour of walking with Veers, their footsteps echoing through the dark maze, with no other sounds or sights or anything to accompany them, it began to feel as if they were walking endlessly in circles, in some dark void that they could never escape. 

Piett knew that they weren’t. He had a highly advanced reader that was recording in what direction they were going and would notify him if there was movement ahead. 

But still, he worried. 

And still they walked through the dark. 

  
  


“Firmus,” Veers said suddenly, and Piett almost jumped. 

“Er--er, what?” he said, half annoyed. 

“Have you been wondering,” said Veers slowly, “just  _ why  _ it’s completely dark in here?”

Piett had wondered that, before the shadows started getting to him. 

“Yes,” he said. 

“Well, from the look of the place where we came in,” Veers said, “this looked like a very well built facility; older, perhaps, where we entered, but well furnished, sparse, clean. So I’m wondering, a place this good--”

“Something extremely complicated had to have happened to shut this down,” Piett realized out loud. “This is no accident. It had to have been purposeful, not just a cut wire; that wouldn’t shut off  _ all  _ the power, only certain areas. The surveillance might remain up, the cameras, while the lights and electricity were shut off, and that only in certain places.” 

“There’s got to be a control room,” Veers mused. “That’s what I’m thinking, there’s got to be some kind of place we could turn the power back on--”

“Not just that.” Piett stopped, grabbing Veers’ arm to stop him as well. “On the subject of who could have caused the problem…”

“Venka,” Veers finished for him, and Piett could  _ hear  _ the shock in his voice. “You’re thinking Venka’s connected to it?”

“I don’t know.” Piett resumed walking, and soon, judging by the second echoing sound beside him, Veers had caught up. “It’s only a possibility.” 

“Well, I know what we need to do first,” Veers said. 

Piett smiled, though Veers wouldn’t be able to see it. “We need to find the control room.” 

  
  


It was a nervewracking experience, knowing that they were being followed-- _ hunted _ \--by an invisible dragon. 

Sola Naberrie had not had much experience with dragons, truth be told. Mostly she had read about them in books, as a child; and then once, when she was twenty and traveling with her sister to Coruscant, an Orpali dragon had escaped from a zoo and run rampant across the planet until some Jedi were able to conquer it and put it back in its cage. But this krayt dragon had to be at least twice the size of the Orpali she’d seen; and, furthermore, the Orpali dragon had also been able to be wounded by lightsabers. 

This monster had no such weaknesses. 

_ At least it’s hunting me and not Ruya,  _ Sola thought to herself; it was the only comforting thought. But then, if this dragon were to kill her, who would there be to save her daughter? 

To make things worse, they had been forced to follow a different trail in order to escape the dragon, and were no longer following Ruya’s trail. 

Sola led them southeast through the jungle, following Doctor Aphra’s prompting now and then; otherwise her tracking skills were fair enough. She remembered the thick area Aphra was talking about very clearly; the thicket just beyond the clearing. 

The clearing. That was what no one was saying: if this dragon was very intelligent, it would plan to attack them there. 

“It’s closer,” Aphra said after about half an hour. The sun was getting very hot now; Sola pulled at her shirt, but she couldn’t do much else. They couldn’t stop. 

“Closer,” Sola echoed, trying to keep her voice calm. “How do you know?”

“A tree is moving,” Aphra said, “about a hundred meters back.” 

“Only a hundred?” said Pandaki, surprising her. “What is she waiting for?” The scientist shook his head. “She’s smarter--and crueler--than I thought. She is being patient. Sola, how close are we?”

“I don’t know, I’d guess--” Sola squinted at the jungle ahead. The trees were beginning to thin out. “Not far.” 

“ _ Not far? _ ” Aphra said. “We need more than that.” 

“I’m doing as well as I can,” Sola said sharply. “But I would guess a half mile.”

There was silence behind her; clearly, both of her companions were thinking. So, although she’d have liked to know what the plan was--besides run as fast as you can when you get to the clearing and don’t look back--Sola continued to walk, carrying herself confidently. Her sister had taught her the value of good leadership. 

“My blaster’s ready,” Aphra said after about a minute.

“Your blaster?” Pandaki laughed. “You really think that’s going to do anything?”

“I didn’t say it was a standard blaster.” 

At that, Sola turned around, still walking, to shoot Aphra a look. “What does that mean?” 

Aphra smiled wolfishly. “I guess you’ll see, won’t you?”

That was not very comforting. 

  
  


After two hours, Vader stopped them. He would have liked to go on without end--and he could have--but it was clear that both Luke and Ruya were exhausted. The heat, for them, would have grown absolutely sweltering; and that, coupled with the humidity, meant that all of them would need water. Unfortunately, that included himself. He did not like to show weakness in front of his son--or the child, who would most certainly ask him about it--as Luke would need to believe that Vader was constantly strong in order to want to turn. However, while he could go without food for long periods due to the nutrition system in his suit, water was not such an easy matter. 

“We will stop here,” he said, and both Luke and Ruya promptly slid down against a tree. “Do not rest now. There is a river just through those trees; it would be wise to take water.” 

Luke got up immediately, as if struck by lightning; Vader remembered suddenly that the boy had grown up on Tatooine, and naturally knew the value of water. Ruya, however, remained still, her eyes closed. 

“I will not take no for an answer,” Vader ordered her. 

Ruya opened her eyes, glaring tiredly at him. “I don’t drink river water.” 

Of all the ridiculous, soft,  _ spoiled-- _ Vader clenched his fists. The only thing that stopped him from throttling her was her immediate relation to him. 

“You will  _ drink, _ ” he said, “or you will die of thirst.” 

“Thirst is a temporary feeling,” said Ruya sleepily, who appeared to be doing her best not to look at him. 

“Ruya,” Luke called from the river’s bank. “The water tastes good, come have some.” 

“O- _ kay, _ ” Ruya said with a long sigh, getting up and harrumphing her way to the trees. Soon she had vanished through them. 

Vader found himself edging closer to the gap in the thicket, watching the two cousins kneeling at the riverbank and drinking water. Luke had given his word, but Vader was still very much on the lookout for an escape attempt; and this would be the perfect opportunity for one. It would be absolutely foolish to try to jump into the river when there were dragons afoot, but he would not put it past him. 

But after a few minutes Luke came back through the trees, followed by Ruya.

“Ew,” she was saying to him. “That did not taste good.” 

“But you feel better now, don’t you?” he said. 

“Yeah,” she admitted after a second’s hesitation. 

They sat down together near the base of the tree. Luke may have been talking to Ruya, but Vader was no fool; he knew that Luke was watching him, still wary. Vader had not gotten any further with his son in the last few hours, and the girl was to blame; he had never hated her existence more. He had been making  _ progress  _ with Luke--slow, crawling progress, but progress all the same. 

And then  _ she  _ had shown up, and he couldn’t say anything to Luke that he  _ wanted  _ to say. 

Vader made his way to the riverbank himself, despising--on top of everything else--the fact that he needed water, that he could not simply will himself to move forward on pure spite alone. But he needed it all the same. He knelt down, the action painful on his limbs, unclipped a small tube from his suit, and lowered it to the water. In seconds, life-giving water was pumped down his raw and still aching throat, and finally into his system. 

Twenty ounces was enough. Well, not enough; but it would have to do. Vader got to his feet and emerged back out of the thicket. 

Luke and Ruya sat up immediately. Ruya was a child, he could not do anything about her fear, and she was of no use to him; but Luke could not be afraid of him. Luke must have respect for him, but  _ not  _ fear. And over the last day and a half, that had not changed. 

He sighed. “This tree is suitable for sleep. Climb it, and sleep.”

“But…” Luke frowned. “But it’s just late afternoon.” 

“And the dragons are nocturnal,” Vader said. “It is not ideal, but you must adapt your schedule to suit them. The dragons are sleeping now, so we will sleep; and when I feel one close to us, in the middle of the night, I will wake you.” 

Ruya looked at Luke--again, such dependence, such trust, that it pulled at Vader; why couldn’t Luke have that trust in him? Why couldn’t Luke depend on him? 

Children were deeply annoying; insufferable. But on the other hand, it might have been better to find him at this age. Then he would be more malleable, more trusting; and it would be so much easier for him to turn. 

_ And then you would have missed less of his life,  _ a voice whispered. 

Vader ignored it. He could not focus on the past; the future was what mattered. 

“Go ahead,” Luke said. “I’ll be right behind you.” 

But that child’s presence was  _ forcing  _ him to focus on the past, and he hated it. He despised it, he despised  _ her.  _

And yet--

The hair swished behind her as she climbed. 

_ Her hair...rich under his fingers, sweeping it behind her neck… _

_ “Ani, stop!” She laughs, the sound musical, like water. “That tickles.”  _

_ He laughs with her. “All the better, then. You need to laugh.”  _

No. 

Radiant skin, even more so in the moonlight--

_ Shut up, _ he snarled at the past, and  _ her  _ face vanished like rippling water. 

Above him, there came a sound-- _ musical, like water-- _ someone was laughing. “No, no, you have to set your hand here.”

Luke. That was Luke, laughing. 

Vader had never heard him laugh before--well. He had, after that  _ insidious  _ prank. But then he had been too furious to think about it. 

Luke had  _ her laugh.  _

In the past. It was in the past, and this time, he would not lose his loved ones. This time, Luke would be saved...by turning to the Dark. He had to. 

Once they got rid of the child, once she was returned to her family... _ then  _ he would resume work on the boy. And then...

Perhaps the dragons would attack. 

Perhaps, some of his friends--perhaps Doctor Aphra--would be killed.

Then he would see the value of the Dark, of power...he would have only Vader to turn to...and so he would Fall. 

_ He must. He has no choice.  _

Luke and Ruya had fallen silent, settled into the tree above. Ruya might be already asleep; Vader could tell from Luke’s signature, bright as a quasar in the Force, that his son was at least drowsy. 

_ I have no choice.  _

Vader did not even bother to climb the tree; it would be better to remain on the ground, hidden in the tree’s shadow. 

_ I have five days. _

As the sun began to sink in the sky, he closed his eyes, not resting--never resting--but casting his presence outwards into the Force. There were two dragons, the two he had felt before. Two dragons. 

And what was the status where Luke was concerned? Vader broke off his concentration, reaching toward his son; ah, so this would be a better night. One brush of Luke’s presence told him that his son was sleeping, and sleeping peacefully at that. 

Good. He would be well rested for the night. 

Minutes passed, hours, and Vader continued to keep his vigil and to watch the dragons’ location, only vague, but present. Two dragons, still there. So far there was no other; perhaps his son had been wrong. His sense of the Force was not yet tamed, after all; it most likely had been some other kind of creature. As furious as Vader had been then, he should have seen it; he was more likely to be right about those things. Luke was brilliant for the amount of training he’d received, but that training had still been short. And so, there must be two dragons; because that was what he saw in the Force. 

Two dragons. 

Vader relaxed further into the Force. 

And then, out of nowhere, there came a third. He could not tell how large it was, the Force did not tell him that...but it was there. 

And, if his sense of the Force was correct, it was heading right towards them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was more "filler," I guess, but I had some important Plot Things to take care of. Don't worry--we're building up to something special. :)


	20. Nightfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sola, Aphra, and Pandaki carry out their plan; Luke injures himself Yet Again; Piett and Veers find survivors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always to my fantastic beta, KaelinaLovesLomaris! 
> 
> For once, no gore. Just fun. :D

It was a longer distance to the clearing than she’d thought; after almost half an hour Sola realized that they were nowhere near their destination. The sun was beginning to sink in the sky, and though Aphra hadn’t said much of anything recently, all three companions knew that the dragon was growing ever closer. It was unnerving, knowing that their enemy was approaching, but not being able to see it...and waiting. 

Just waiting. 

“We’re almost there,” Sola said quietly after another ten minutes; the road was beginning to open up in front of them. “Make sure you’re ready.” 

The others walked in silence, probably too wary to speak. Pandaki continued to look backwards over his shoulder, clearly nervous; that was _his_ creature that was hunting them, after all. Needless to say, it had been a shock for Sola to hear that this Mirialan had created the monsters that were hunting them; but in the moment, they’d had worse things to take care of. And besides that, he didn’t seem like anyone who would intentionally do something so terrible. Perhaps he had not thought they would go this way; he might have simply made an honest mistake, she reasoned. But whatever it was, she’d never seen anything to make her distrust him; he had been far less antagonistic toward Aphra initially, and now with this plan of his, he seemed to want to make up for whatever he’d done. 

“I know what’s happening,” Pandaki said suddenly, his voice soft. “I know what she’s doing.” 

Dread pooled in Sola’s stomach. “What?”

“She’s not waiting until we’ve weakened, that’s absurd,” he said. “She’s stronger than we are at any chosen moment. No, she’s waiting until nightfall.” 

Sola looked at the sun. It was beginning to set; the sky was colored beautiful shades of red, pink, and orange. The beauty seemed ironic, given what was about to happen. 

“Why nightfall?” Aphra demanded. “Why not now? I mean, I know they’re nocturnal, but I doubt she’d just follow us all day. Unless…” She gasped softly. “She can’t turn invisible, she’s just too far away.” 

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Pandaki said, and Sola wished she knew a thing about science so that she could join in the conversation. “She _camouflages_ herself, and that’s why she hasn’t gotten too close all day; in the daylight, with sunlight flickering through the trees, we might see her if she gets close. But at night…” He shook his head. “It will be much, much more difficult.” 

“And we’re going to reach that clearing at dusk,” Sola said grimly. 

“Exactly.” Pandaki sighed heavily. “She’ll have a perfect shot at us, and we won’t be able to see she has us between her teeth.” 

  
  


_He walks down the corridor, as before; the long white hallway, familiar, but also unfamiliar. It is clean and sparse, but the shadows grow long, following him as he walks. Silent. Hunting him. He keeps waiting for them to attack, but they do not. They just watch._

_Then a voice, ahead: “Luke!”_

_Like before. But this time, it’s not Han._

_This time it’s someone else. A child...a little girl, terrified._

_“Luke!” she screams again, agonized, in pain._

_“Ruya!” he shouts back, unable to help himself; he cannot bear to hear her screaming like that, to hear her choked cries, to hear her so obviously being tortured. “I’m coming, Ruya!”_

_“Luke!” she screams louder. “Luke, I--”_

_Abruptly, she is silent.  
_

_“Ruya!” he screams back, breaking into a run. He knows she is close, he knows she is just in the other room. That’s how it’s been before. This time, though, he knows he will save her; this time, it will be different._

_But as he runs, the shadows following him grow suddenly, and lengthen. Before him, the white begins to narrow and shrink, the darkness at his heels; desperate, he runs faster, but he cannot stay ahead of it. He cannot run fast enough. It catches up to him quickly, eclipses the white--_

_“Luke!” Ruya screams again._

_And then the shadows seize him from behind, lunging for his limbs and dragging him to the ground. He fights them, pushes against them--because Ruya needs him, he has to get to her--and then the grip on his limbs turns painful, claws digging into his flesh, needles inserted everywhere. But he cannot scream._

_And then out of the room to his right walks Darth Vader._

_Luke freezes, even in the midst of his pain--his terror._

_“You are not feeling sorry for the child, are you?” he says, his tone mocking. “She is useless; a helpless child without the Force. What use would she be to us?”_

_For some reason, he cannot speak. Ruya continues to scream, and he writhes against the hold; the claws dig into him further._

_“I gave you time,” Vader says, igniting his lightsaber. “I gave you precious time to turn, to embrace the Dark Side, and your heritage...but you did not. So now it will be forced upon you.”_

_Luke stares up at him. What does that mean? He’s not talking about--_

_Vader sheathes his lightsaber and raises a fist. The pain on his arms and legs and chest and everywhere suddenly vanishes, and then the darkness swirls around him, surrounding him like a hurricane--it’s all that exists, all he can see even though he knows Vader is behind it--_

_And then the darkness moves, flooding into his mouth,_ into _him. Consuming him._

_“Luke!” Ruya continues to scream, and he can’t help her, he can’t do anything. He can only sit there as his father forces the Dark Side into him--_

_“LUKE!”_

Luke sat upright, gasping, the nightmare-vision still fresh in his mind. 

_Can’t let it happen,_ he told himself. _I don’t...that’s not how the Force works, not like that…_

But he’d _seen_ how desperate Vader was to turn him. It didn’t mean that would happen, exactly, but he _would_ let Ruya die, he _would_ torment Luke if it meant turning him--

“Luke!” someone thundered. 

It was Vader. Luke looked down at him fearfully, still seeing the tendrils of darkness half before his eyes. 

“Climb down,” Vader demanded. “Wake up the child, we must _leave!_ ”

This was not about the Dark Side. There was some sort of danger. 

With an effort, Luke pushed the nightmare out of his mind and shook Ruya, who, he found, was lying half on his lap, her mouth open as she snored. 

“Ruya,” he whispered. “Ruya, wake up!”

Ruya’s eyes blinked open lazily. “What is it?”

“I don’t know, something’s wrong,” Luke said. “Vader wants us to climb down.” 

Fear flashed through Ruya’s eyes. “The dragon?”

“I don’t know.” Luke stood up. “But come on, we need to--”

“Luke! _Hurry!_ ” 

Luke closed his eyes against a retort. He was already _doing_ that.

“You first,” he told Ruya, “I’ll go down after you.” 

Nodding slowly, Ruya turned around and began to climb. Luke could see Vader standing there at the base of the tree, waiting with his arms at his side, both hands clenched into fists. There was no manipulation going on here, he realized; it was dusk, barely a glimmer of the sun could be seen left, it was the dragons’ feeding time, and one of them was heading this way. 

_Please don’t be the invisible one,_ he begged to the Force, watching as Ruya climbed down, branch after branch. When she was almost all the way, Luke turned around and started to go himself. After waking up so abruptly, it was almost difficult to focus; he felt as if nothing was real, getting up to move just when it had become the night, but all the same he tried to move as quickly as he could. 

He was halfway down when the branch shook, almost throwing him to the ground. A moment later, it stopped; but he knew what it was. 

The dragon. 

“Luke!” Vader bellowed. 

Luke looked down. Ruya was on the ground now, both she and Vader waiting with almost the same anxious look to them, looking up at Luke with their hands clenched at their sides. That was uncanny. 

_Thud._ The ground shook again. 

Luke scrambled down then, barely even looking to see where he was landing, almost missing branches, scraping his hands and face on the rough bark as he went; but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to get out of the tree, now that he knew for sure that the dragon was coming. 

_Thud._

“LUKE!” Vader shouted, sounding more furious than he’d ever sounded. 

“Luke, climb faster!” Ruya shouted a second later. 

_Thud._

Luke looked down; about thirty feet to the ground. Oh, well. He let go, grasping for the Force as he went to help him as he crashed through branches before landing, hard, on the ground. Unfortunately, he landed on his feet, his lower body absorbing the shock, and his ankle twisted under him with a sharp pain. 

With a cry, he fell sideways onto the ground. 

“Luke!” Both Vader and Ruya said at once, starting towards him. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Luke said quickly, sitting up. He wasn’t, really, but it was just a twisted ankle; much better than anything else that could have happened to him, and they needed to leave. 

“Then we must leave,” Vader said sharply, turning away. “Follow me, and do not stop.” 

Luke glanced at Ruya. She looked scared, but determined at the same time. 

_Thud._

“Here,” she said, holding out her hand. Luke took it with a half-smile, trying not to lean on her too much, and stood up. His ankle wobbled for a second under him, sending a sharp pain up his leg. 

“I’m all right,” Luke said, steadying himself. The pain went away. 

Then they began to run. 

  
  


There was less than a quarter of a mile to go, at least by Sola’s best guess. The sun had almost fully set now; there was barely a glimmer of pink to be seen poking through the gaps between the trees, and the air had grown colder within just fifteen minutes. Night was almost there. 

As was the clearing. 

They had walked with no incidents yet, constantly keeping an eye on the dragon’s position; and gradually, as they walked on, and grew more and more anxious their meager conversation had vanished into silence. There was nothing to talk about besides the obvious, besides asking where the dragon was. And even that Sola was growing more and more reluctant to ask, because each time, the answer was, simply put: “Closer.” 

But it had been a few minutes since she’d asked, and she knew she needed to do it soon. 

Behind her, Aphra and Pandaki were totally silent. 

“Where is it?” Sola asked quietly. She did not say what “it” was; she didn’t have to. All three of them knew by now. 

“Last I checked, about thirty…” Aphra turned around. “No, maybe I was wrong. There’s a tree about forty yards back that’s moving--well, two trees. Three…” In the light of the rising moon, her face went white. “Oh, no.” 

Sola realized what had happened. For the first time, she noticed her hair stirring; and if the trees were _all_ moving…

“There’s a small wind,” Pandaki said, finishing Sola’s thought out loud. “That means…” He looked at her, eyes wide in horror. “We have no idea where she is.” 

“Well, we know she’s behind us,” Aphra said, almost defiantly. 

Pandaki turned to stare at her. “Do we?” 

“Shit,” Aphra whispered. 

Sola felt as if the ground had dropped from under her, but she still turned to glare at her two companions. “Oh, pull yourselves together! If we want to get out of this, we have to keep a cool head. So we don’t know where the dragon is. The question is: should we run now or not?”

“We…” Aphra squinted at the clearing. “I can see it from here, but barely.” 

“Run,” Pandaki whispered. “We need to run.” 

“We’ll keep walking,” Sola said, picking up the pace. “It’s all right. In about a minute, the second we hit the clearing--” 

“No, we need to run,” Pandaki said, louder.

The scientist was beginning to creep her out, but Sola knew that they couldn’t run yet; the dragon would be so much faster than them, and they could only run once they reached the clearing. It was their plan; they had all decided on it hours ago. 

“Well--well, look, the clearing’s right there,” Sola said, pointing up ahead; she could see it through the branches ahead, a large space almost completely devoid of trees. “Once we get there--”

“No!” Sola looked back at Pandaki; there was a look in his eyes, both terrified and intense, that absolutely terrified her. This Mirialan may have been gentle; he may have been wounded; he may have felt deeply guilty and so become silent; but when it came down to it, he knew these dragons like the back of his hand. He had created them, after all. “We need to run, and we need to do it now. I am her creator, she is my creation, and I saw her as a hatchling. I know how she breathes--I know how she _sounds_ when she’s breathing--and neither of you can feel it but I can, and _she is standing right behind us!_ ” 

Slowly, very slowly, Sola started to turn around--

“Don’t turn around!” Aphra shouted, her voice suddenly wild and high-pitched. “Run!” 

That was all it took to get Sola sprinting forward, Aphra and Pandaki right on her heels--and not a moment too soon. As they ran, there was a long, drawn-out _hiss_ behind them, like a pot of acid boiling over. A moment later came a rush of air, and then _thud, thud, thud--_

“Run! Faster!” Sola screamed, blind panic making her heart pound and her limbs shake even as she ran, faster than she had run in years but still not fast enough because she could _feel_ the dragon behind her, behind _them,_ on their heels, almost on top of them even as the edge of the trees drew nearer, the clearing was just in sight, and the _thud, thud, thud_ grew louder, and closer, and louder--

A _whoosh_ of air--

And then it stopped altogether. 

There was nothing behind them. 

Why--

“Stop!” Pandaki screamed, and Sola and Aphra ground to a halt. “She…” 

The scientist was pale, terrified; he did not finish his sentence. But then, he didn’t have to. From the air falling on her face, Sola knew what had happened: the dragon had come _around_ them, and was now standing right in front of the last clump of trees. 

“She’s...she’s _playing_ with us,” Sola realized, horrified. “To her, this is... _fun._ ”

“Bloody hell, I wish I’d never created her,” Pandaki gasped. 

“So do I,” growled Aphra. 

Sola could almost _see_ the dragon now, in the light that was almost gone; well, not exactly see it. It was more like a shimmering of air, different enough from the rest of the jungle that she could tell it apart if she focused. 

The shimmer of air moved, just slightly. 

“We don’t have long,” Pandaki said, softly. “She’s going to lunge at us in a few moments, seize one of us; and then the others will have to run.” He turned to look at Sola and Aphra, almost desperately. “Just in case, I...I want you to know that I have a son, a beautiful, wonderful son, who lives on Naboo with his family.” 

“Naboo,” Sola echoed, hardly able to believe it. “Where, Pandaki?”

“Theed,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “And my son--his name is Aa’mil--he has two children, a boy and a girl...three and six years, respectively. The girl, the elder one, she...she dances. Tell them--” He swallowed. “Tell them I’m sorry, for everything I did here, and I wish I could have seen them.” He sighed. “I did not spend as much time with Aa’mil as I should have...but he will understand.” 

Sola could only nod; words caught in her throat. She felt that she was about to see a great tragedy unfold, and for the first time that day her entire focus was not on the dragon looming over them. 

“Tell them,” he pleaded. “You’re from Naboo; tell them, for me.” 

Sola opened her mouth, finally finding the words to speak; and then, to her surprise, Aphra threw her bag down and pushed both Sola and Pandaki out of the way. 

The dragon hissed. 

“Tell them yourself,” she snarled, and pulled a very oddly-shaped blaster out of her jacket. The general shape was that of a blaster, but much larger, and longer--Sola didn’t know how she’d fit it in her jacket to begin with--and with something that looked like the barrel of a _grenade launcher_. 

“Aphra,” Sola started as the ground shook, “what are you--”

“Run!” Aphra shouted. 

Sola took Pandaki’s hand, yanking him away, and as the ground shook repeatedly--the dragon was moving toward them--she looked back to see Aphra prime the weapon, one, two, three times, and yank back on the trigger. 

There was a burst of fire and smoke, and the dragon screamed. 

“Come on!” Sola yelled to Pandaki, and they burst through the trees and into the clearing. Two hundred meters, just two hundred meters. They could do it. 

Another blast behind them. This time, the dragon _roared._

_Come on, Aphra, get the hell out of there._

One hundred meters. 

Pandaki was already gasping; the sleeve of his wounded arm, Sola noticed, had a dark stain. They’d have to take care of that. 

“Come on,” she said, half to herself. 

Behind them, another blast. They were almost across the clearing--

Sola looked back. Aphra was still standing just beyond the trees, half in a crouch as she prepared her next blow. 

“Aphra!” she shouted. “APHRA! Come on!” 

Those _particular_ trees were shaking hard. 

Aphra shot Sola a daring grin, fired off one more blast--another agonized roar--and then she was running, crashing through the trees and breaking into the clearing. 

Behind her, the trees bent. 

“Just keep running!” Aphra shouted. “And don’t stop!” 

Reluctantly, Sola faced forward again and ran faster; Pandaki, as in pain as he appeared to be, kept pace with her. They were almost across, covering the last swaths of open land, as the thick trees, the heart of the jungle, approached--

And behind them, all the while, echoed _thud._

_Thud._

_THUD._

  
  


Luke’s leg was hurting him more with each meter they covered, but they couldn’t stop; so he did his best to ignore it, because one of the dragons was on their tail. He could feel it, the _thud, thud, thud_ growing ever closer. 

“What kind is it?” he gasped to Vader after about five minutes. “Which dragon? And how did you know?” 

“The third,” Vader responded, and Luke immediately ran faster. “The anomaly that you told me about. I saw it in the Force.” 

Luke knew not to ask about the last part. The answer would inevitably come back: _You can only do that with the Dark Side._ And it was not a preferable time to start a discussion about the Force. 

“The--the one that turns invisible,” Luke stuttered. 

“Invisible?” Ruya gasped from his side. She was having the hardest time of them all; they had to run at Vader’s pace, meaning that after five minutes, she was absolutely exhausted. “The dragon turns invisible?”

“One of the dragons,” Luke corrected her; he was finding it difficult to speak over the growing pain in his ankle, but he managed it. “There are three out here. Not the one we saw earlier; this is another one.” 

Ruya went silent, and Luke knew it meant she was terrified. 

_She won’t die,_ he decided then and there. _It won’t be like the vision. She is_ not _going to die._

But he’d decided he was going to save Han. And then he _hadn’t._

Luke focused back on the path in front of him, focused on not tripping over roots to avoid making his twisted ankle worse. He could _not_ afford to think about that right now. 

And then, the ground began to shake _even more._

It was a constant shaking, a constant trembling almost like an earthquake, thud after thud after thud, gradually growing closer. 

“It’s running,” he realized aloud. “It’s running! Fa--” _Shit._ “Vader, where is it?” 

Vader hesitated several seconds, and Luke felt his presence cast out into the Force. A moment later, the helmet turned slightly toward him. 

“It is not close enough to have seen us,” Vader said. 

“Then what’s happening?” Luke demanded. “What’s it _doing?_ ”

“If only you would embrace the Dark Side, you could know,” Vader snapped. “But there is not time for that now. There are...several others there. The Force cannot tell me if they are people, or other, smaller, creatures. The dragon is hunting them.” 

_It could be Aphra,_ Luke realized. _It could be Aphra, and the doctor--_

“We have to go back,” he said, and then Vader _did_ stop, seizing Luke’s arm. 

_Oh, would you STOP doing that?_

Ruya was so out of it she bumped into him. Luke barely noticed. 

“Understand me, Luke,” Vader growled, his voice probably as low as he could make it with the vocoder controlling his voice. “That you swore that you would not run, that you would keep by my side.” 

“That was last night, and I was done with everything then,” Luke said. 

His reward was to have his arm gripped tighter, almost painfully. A memory of the dark tendrils digging into his skin, like claws, cut into his mind, and he flinched. _Shut up, it’s not real, it didn’t happen…_

“You gave me your _word,”_ Vader hissed while Ruya caught her breath, apparently unaware of the conversation that was going on, “and that means that you will not throw yourself into battle. You will not save meaningless people. You will come with me, and do as _I_ tell you. Do you understand?”

“I understand _nothing,_ ” Luke snapped, “if it’s concerned with you letting innocent people get killed. All I know is that I want nothing more than to get away from you, but _at the moment,_ I have no choice.” 

Vader let go of him and stepped back. The ground had stopped shaking. 

“That, I suppose, is the most I will get from you for now,” he said. _“For now._ But be assured, when we escape--and we _will_ \--you will understand. I will _make_ you understand, and then--”

In the distance behind them, there was a sound of a blaster being fired, only...bigger. 

And then, an ear-splitting, earth-shaking, dragon scream. 

“And then, on that note, we need to leave,” Luke said. 

“For once, we are in agreement,” Vader said, turning around. “Child, I trust you have received enough rest.” 

Ruya nodded. 

“Then we continue. And this time, we will not stop until we reach safety.” 

There was another scream. Luke wanted to slam his hands over his ears. 

And then they ran. 

  
  


With cries and grunts and the tearing of about two dozen weak branches, Sola and Pandaki crashed through the thicket back into the jungle, the dragon hissing behind them. It really was the thickest part of the jungle, Sola realized; it would be difficult for even _them_ to move through the web of tree branches and leaves and roots all mingling together. They’d have to run to slow down the dragon, and they’d probably end up injuring themselves in the process; but that, Sola reasoned, was far better than the alternative. 

The moment he’d caught his breath, Pandaki was already running again; but Sola found herself turning back to watch for Aphra, who was still sprinting across the clearing. She had no idea where the dragon was, but Aphra’s neck muscles were strained; sweat was pouring down her face; she looked as if she had never run this fast, in all her life, like she was throwing everything into this last-minute sprint.

That meant the dragon was right behind her. 

“Aphra!” Sola shouted to Pandaki, and he stopped dead. “Aphra!” 

“What should we do?” he shouted back. “No blaster besides the one she’s got will do anything to the dragon!” 

Blasters. Right. She had a blaster. 

“Maybe not,” Sola said, “but it’ll at least distract the thing.” 

Running back to the edge of the clearing--Aphra was almost there, almost there, just fifty meters away, but without this she would never make it--Sola crouched down, whipped out her blaster, and aimed it at where she thought the dragon’s eye might be. 

Something _pinged._ Blast it, this thing was taller than she’d thought; she’d gone for the eye, but it seemed she’d hit the armored breastplate instead. Squinting, Sola fired again. 

This time, the thuds stopped for a moment, the dragon hissed; not the eye, because otherwise Sola would have seen blood, but she’d at least given it a small wound, something to temporarily distract the thing. And that was enough for Aphra to come crashing through the trees and land where Sola was crouched. 

“Thanks,” Aphra panted. “Go! Go!” 

“Go!” Sola shouted at Pandaki, who was still waiting; immediately, he turned around and began running, crying out as he struck his leg on a hard branch but not stopping, never stopping. Sola and Aphra came behind, running even with each other; Sola couldn’t believe it. After almost killing herself to sprint across the clearing, Aphra was able to take a moment, get up, and start running once more. With every passing moment, Sola found herself respecting the archaeologist a little more. 

They made it maybe fifteen yards before the earth shook again; the dragon was after them. 

“This one--this one’s smart,” Sola gasped. 

“Of course she is,” Pandaki called back to them. “She’s not like the other one that attacked, the Greater krayt; she hunts not only by movement, but also--”

“Yes, yes, tell us later!” Sola and Aphra shouted at once. 

_Thud, thud, thud_ came behind them. 

“Here we go,” Aphra muttered as they ran. 

And then, with a gigantic crash, the dragon emerged into the jungle behind them. The shaking paused for just a moment--for the dragon to let loose an ear-splitting roar--and then it resumed. But this time, the jungle worked in their favor; they didn’t know when the dragon was near just by the earth trembling. Now that she was on the hunt, she was taking down every tree and branch and bush in her vicinity. And it didn’t matter how fast they ran; in just seconds, she’d caught up to them. 

But Pandaki knew what he was doing. Even with his arm the way it was, he had begun leaping over roots and shoving branches out of the way, instead of just crashing straight through them; and after a few moments, Sola realized what he was doing. He was leaving all that for the dragon to crash through.

“Do what he’s doing!” she said to Aphra. 

“I’m thinking what you are,” Aphra panted, and soon they were copying him, despite the fact that jumping expended extra energy they might need for running. Sola wondered how long it would be before they ran out of strength; they, unlike the dragon, could not do this forever, this endless running and leaping away from something about twenty times as large as they were. 

Suddenly her foot snagged a root; with a yelp, Sola went down--a hand on her arm then, Aphra, and she was up and running again, limping slightly. There was a stitch in her side and she hoped she hadn’t twisted her ankle; that would make everything so much worse. If only it would stop soon, if only the dragon would just _just stop,_ but she knew it would not. There was no way their predator would stop; as fast as they could run, the dragon was faster, and the earth kept thudding and--

“Hey, it’s working!” Aphra shouted suddenly, and then Sola realized that the crashing of the trees was not immediately behind them. “We’re slowing her down--keep running!” 

It was working. 

A moment ago, Sola had felt ready to collapse; now, it was as if new strength had been poured into her. She was able to run faster, speeding along and catching up to Pandaki quickly--Aphra right behind her--because now the chase would have an end. 

The dragon was furious, absolutely _furious;_ but the jungle, like Pandaki had predicted, was slowing her down. They’d chosen their place strategically. Although the three companions were covered in scrapes and scratches and aching in about every place possible, they were much, _much_ smaller, and they could at least run this route; the dragon could not. For as strong as she was, this was the oldest, most ancient part of the jungle, with the most stubborn roots; the Felucian natives had not disturbed it for a thousand years, thinking that they must not disturb the spirits who they believed lived in that part. Naturally, there were no spirits; but it meant that even a dragon could not crash straight through this part of the jungle. 

The crashing was growing even farther behind them now; Sola turned to look. The last tree had fallen about...one hundred meters back. Another hundred, she guessed, and they would win.

“You’ll have to follow me,” Aphra said, “I know where we can hide. I remember from when I was scouting around out here!” 

Sola could only nod; her side was in _constant pain,_ and all she wanted to do was stop, but until then she could only continue to run. She didn’t even think she could distract herself by talking. 

_Faster,_ she told herself. _Just a little faster, just keep going…_

The trees blended into a blur around her in the darkness, green and brown and glimpses of red, barely broken by moonlight; the trees were so thick here that Sola could barely see anything but the bare surroundings, and she wondered how she knew where to jump, how she didn’t fall more often. Maybe it was that thing that Sola had refused to acknowledge, that her sister had always seemed to believe in, the Force; but then, considering who she’d married, that was no surprise. Whatever it was, Sola was grateful for it. 

And still the dragon came, _thud, thud, thud._ That had to be the most stubborn creature Sola had ever encountered in her _life--_

“Here!” Aphra shouted suddenly. “Follow me, here!” 

Mid-stride, Aphra turned and dove into the underbrush. Sola followed her, and Pandaki came behind. It took Sola a moment in the darkness, but soon she saw that there was incredibly tall grass here, and that Aphra was crawling through it towards...towards a cave. 

“How do we know that’s safe?” Sola whispered. 

Aphra turned around, angrily zipped a finger across her lips, and kept crawling, as quietly as possible as the dragon kept on coming behind them. Then Sola understood; the creature would hear them. 

If so, that was a hell of a krayt dragon. 

At last they reached the cave and crawled inside. It wasn’t very large, with barely enough room for all three of them; but they made it and sat crouched with their backs against the wall and knees against their chest, waiting. 

And the dragon continued to rampage past, crashing through trees…

And then the thudding slowed. 

The crashing stopped. 

_Oh, no,_ Sola thought. _Please...please, don’t be_ that _smart--_

For several seconds, there was nothing except the soft snuffling of the dragon some meters outside the cave. Sola held her breath; she was exhausted, she wanted to gasp after that much running, but she did _not_ want that _thing_ to find her. 

_Please,_ she begged to the darkness, _if there is a Force, if there’s some mystical energy field controlling everything, please save me...I need to be here, I need to find my daughter. That’s all I want, I just want to see Ruya again--please._

Sola counted as the earth trembled, once; the dragon had taken one step. One...two...three...four….five…

Everything was silent. 

And then the silence was broken by the loudest roar Sola had heard yet, and at once, she, Aphra, and Pandaki slammed their hands over their ears. It was, Sola realized, a cry of rage. 

Rage that the prey had escaped. 

A moment later, the dragon turned around--Sola could just see its outline around the curve of the cave’s wall--and went crashing forward, her giant footsteps echoing like the drums of doom. She let out one more trumpeting roar, and then was silent save for the continuing crashing through the jungle. 

Eventually, even that vanished. 

Sola didn’t have the energy to shout, or laugh, or cry. Relieved beyond words, she let tears stream down her face as she laid her head back against the wall of the cave. 

Miraculously, they had escaped. 

  
  


Piett opened his eyes. 

He’d fallen asleep, he realized; they had _both_ fallen asleep. Veers was slumped next to him on the floor of the darkened facility. Vaguely, Piett seemed to recall that they had both sat down to rest, and then...well. They had gone hours without sleep; it was bound to happen at some point. 

But to happen _now?_ When they were still trying to find Lord Vader and get to the mystery of what, exactly, Venka had done? When there might or might not be creatures still _down_ here? 

“Max.” He nudged his snoring friend. “Maximilian! _Hey!_ ” 

Veers gave a half-snort and sat up with a groan. “Oh, bloody _hell,_ Firmus. Do you know how often I get to rest on the job? I’ll bet you we only got three hours of sleep after what counts as a thirty-six hour shift--”

“Oh, shut it.” Piett stood, yanking Veers up with him. “Don’t you get it? We don’t know what time it is, we can’t just take a rest like that!” 

“What, and have you pass out when we finally get to the important things later?” Veers shot back. “I hate officers sleeping on the job as much as you do, but there comes a time when--”

“Hello?” called a soft voice. 

At once, both men spun around. The voice had come from behind them. 

“Hello?” Piett called out. “Who’s there?”

“I...might ask you the same question,” coughed the voice. Whoever it was, they sounded...injured. 

Piett glanced at Veers before remembering he couldn’t see the other man’s face. “Come on, let’s go see what he wants.” 

“All right.” The two men crossed the hallway in about a minute, and finally Piett could see a little light; something was reflecting in from an open door, something that operated independently of the power system. It was a relief to see Veers beside him, for once; and a few seconds later, Piett could also see the poor creature who was slumped up against the wall. He was a blue-skinned Twi’lek, although the species’ defining feature--his lekku--were torn and shredded almost beyond recognition. Beyond that, he had some sort of leg wound, and maybe another that Piett couldn’t see. But he was most certainly alive. 

And, he realized with a flash of shock, he _knew_ him. 

“Doctor Vinh,” Piett said. Vinh had been one of Pandaki’s assistants when Piett had come to inspect the laboratory; now he wore a longer coat and a suit that looked fairly expensive. Clearly, he had been promoted. “What...what happened?” 

That was a rhetorical question; it was very clear that Vinh had been attacked by one of those dragons. 

The dragons. 

The _scientists,_ they _were_ down here, which meant that they had only pretended to leave! Pandaki’s anger had been a front; _all of it_ had been a front, and they’d used it to come and tunnel down here. 

Which meant...which meant that, most likely, the facility was connected to the hospital. 

Piett didn’t know what to do with that information--the people in the hospital might be in danger, the power was most certainly out there as well--because at the moment, he was torn between anger at Pandaki and anger at himself. LARS had tricked them. The _Empire_ had allowed itself to get tricked by LARS. Either way, it wasn’t good. 

“It...it was one of our...creatures,” Vinh whispered, and he sounded so miserable that some of Piett’s anger abated. “I managed to shoot her with a tranquilizer, but she…” He gestured weakly to his lekku. “She did a number on me.” 

“Yes, I can see that.” Piett knelt down by his side. “What we want to know is--”

Suddenly, Vinh gasped. “You’re Admiral Piett, and--” His eyes slid toward Veers. “And you’re an Imperial, too.” 

Veers sighed. “Of course, no one knows the _general_ when they see him, but--”

“Shut it,” Piett said impatiently before turning back toward Vinh. “I do confess that I’m quite angry at all of you for deceiving us; but then, I’m sorry that we put on such a poor performance, for the crew of the _Executor._ We did not send our best man to finish up the job; I think he was tricked easily. I assure you that if _I_ had been in charge of the case, I might have caught you.” 

A faint smile traced Vinh’s lips. “I’m...I’m not so sure”

Piett chuckled. “Maybe not. I…” He sighed. “I also must confess that the man who finished up the case--Kieron Venka--might be the reason for the power outage.” 

“Really?” Vinh shook his head. “I...I knew he was a bad seed, I--” He coughed, blood sprinkling his lips. “I _would_ reset the power, but…”

“No, no, obviously you can’t,” Veers said. “But do you think…” 

Piett looked at his friend. _They_ would have to do it, they’d have to go back to the control room and do it. 

“Do you think you could tell us how to do it?” Veers asked. 

“I…” Vinh coughed again. “Yes, I...I think I can.” He couldn’t lift his head, but his eyes roamed the room anxiously. “But it...will have to be quick.”

Piett frowned. “Why?”

Vinh’s eyes met his. “Because I do not know who else may be here with us.” 

  
  


Vader understood that neither Luke nor Ruya could run forever; and neither could he, if he was being honest with himself(and he was not). He did not care. The shaking of the earth was growing louder, and more frequent, behind them, and they _had_ to get out of the jungle, to the hospital. His thought, for once, was not even on turning Luke; it was only on escaping the monster behind them. He did not know how long they’d been going since the last stop; his mind was only on reaching transportation...and staying _ahead_ of the dragon. 

Then, behind him, Luke cried out. 

“Luke!” Ruya exclaimed. 

Two motives were fighting in Vader’s mind: keep going and escape, or stop. In the end, it was the latter; because, obviously, he needed Luke with him. 

“What is wrong?” he hissed, crouching down to kneel at his son’s side. Immediately, Ruya edged away from him, but he paid her no heed; the ground was still trembling, and one of Luke’s legs was stretched out. 

“I twisted my ankle when I jumped out of the tree,” Luke said. “I--I’ll be fine.” 

Vader regarded him skeptically. His son was gradually accumulating a list of injuries: first the ribs, now this. But at least none of them were very serious. 

“Then we will continue,” he said, standing up.

Luke released a breath and held out his hand to Ruya, who helped him up once more. But it took the boy longer this time; he stumbled for several seconds, leaning on Ruya’s arm as he caught his balance. 

_If only he knew the Dark Side, he could heal himself,_ a voice whispered in Vader’s mind. It was correct, of course; but there was no time for that now. There was only the simple fact that with both of his injuries, Luke could not run fast enough for them to escape the dragon. 

So, for now, they needed to hide. 

Vader cast an eye around for somewhere they could take rest in; and then he noticed a particular tree almost overburdened by leaves. It would hide them quite well...but they couldn’t hide in a tree. Once they had to move, that would make Luke’s twisted ankle worse. 

What other options were there? 

Even as Vader considered it, the shaking stopped. 

“What’s going on?” Luke asked. “Did the dragon turn around?”

Vader wondered if that was the case. To test this, he reached into the Force, searching for the hybrid dragon. At first, he found only the three life forms he had discovered earlier; they must have escaped, and their position was quite close. The dragon was not anywhere near them. 

Relieved, Vader withdrew. 

“It is gone,” he said. “It is not following us any longer. We may walk.” 

Both Luke and Ruya released audible sighs of relief. 

“Follow me,” he said, “and keep close. We cannot let our guard down, for even a moment.”

“How far is it to the hospital?” Ruya asked. “My mom is there.” 

Her _mother._ Sola, almost identical to...to _her_ in many areas. Could the situation get any _worse?_

Maybe they would just drop the child off; they could avoid Sola altogether. One way or another, someone would help her get back to her family...as long as that person wasn’t his ridiculously compassionate son. 

“By my estimate, it is several miles,” Vader said. “That will be a walk of several hours. So we must hurry.” 

Turning back on the path, Vader resumed the walk, followed after a few seconds by Luke and Ruya. If only the dragon did not show up again, if only...then they would be able to escape Felucia. 

If, however, the dragon did make its appearance...with a child and an injured Luke under his watch, escape would be much less certain. 

  
  


About an hour later, Sola opened her eyes. 

She must have fallen asleep; Pandaki was certainly asleep. But Aphra was not in the cave. After searching for several moments, Sola noticed that she was keeping watch outside. 

With a sigh, Sola got up and joined her. 

“I thought you’d be sleeping, Aphra,” she said, “after everything.” 

Aphra scowled. “Oh, I wanted to. But do you really think I’d be _sleeping_ with dragons around?”

“Good point,” Sola said with a smile. “Go back in and sleep, Aphra. I’ll keep watch out here.” 

“Sure you won’t fall asleep?” Aphra said wryly. “A noblewoman like you?” 

Sola rolled her eyes. “While you were in the cradle during the Clone Wars, I was helping to keep Naboo safe. I’ll be fine.” 

“All right.” With a yawn, Aphra went into the cave. Sola watched her; and in moments, the young doctor was asleep. 

Sola couldn’t explain it, the protectiveness she felt for the two of them; maybe it just came from being a mother. But Aphra was just a few years older than her oldest daughter, Ryoo; and as for Pandaki, well. He had family--on Naboo, no less--and as it turned out, he was _not_ just some mindless scientist. He had family of his own, who he loved, and who he felt incredibly guilty for neglecting; and beyond that, he had been selfless enough to prepare to sacrifice himself. Then, Aphra _had_ sacrificed herself. 

They were honorable people, both of them. And Sola was drawn by nature to honorable people. 

As the hour passed, the moon rose, shining more light down through the trees; and suddenly Sola noticed something on the ground several meters from the cave. Curious, she bent to examine it. They were, once again, tracks in the dirt. It was no dragon--no dragon had appeared since the Alpha had been thrown off their trail--but the tracks were familiar. There were actually several of them, of varying sizes, but she only noticed the smallest set of footprints. 

They were Ruya’s. 

_Ruya_ had passed by here, maybe several hours ago. 

And…

Sola paled in horror. 

And _so had the Alpha._

Sola had thought she was saving herself so that she could protect Ruya...but in the end, she had actually doomed her. In saving themselves, she and her two companions had unwittingly sent the Alpha after her little girl. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative name for this chapter: The Alpha, Part One.


	21. Four Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sola becomes a mama bear once again; Piett and Veers begin to attempt a daunting task; Luke, Vader, and Ruya make the last trek toward the hospital...but they're unaware that a Great Big Something is on their trail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh. Here we go with the graphic depictions of violence again. Sorry, guys. 
> 
> Thanks once again to my fantastic beta, KaelinaLovesLomaris!

“APHRA!” 

It was the first beautiful, peaceful sleep that Aphra had had in _days,_ and it was wonderful. Later, she didn’t recall what she dreamed about; something indistinct and colorful, with no meaning or danger to it. Whatever it was, it meant that for the first time in days, Aphra was at rest; and then that rest was suddenly interrupted by someone screaming her name. 

“Aphra! Pandaki!” 

Aphra blinked her eyes open, feeling like she’d had her head cut open. She could only have been asleep for about two hours, and being woken up straight in the middle of her deep sleep stage had that effect on her. 

“What?” she groaned as Sola staggered into the cave; the older woman looked absolutely terrified, her face white. “What is it _now?_ ” 

“The--” Sola couldn’t have picked a worse time to be speechless. “The dragon--”

The dragon. Instantly, Aphra was awake. 

“The dragon,” she echoed, sitting up. “The Alpha! Has it come back?”

Then, Aphra woke up enough to realize that Sola had just shouted and screamed her way back to the cave.

“You idiot!” Aphra hissed, standing up--whoa, that was not a good idea. She swayed slightly, but was still able to stab a finger in Sola’s face. “What the hell are you _doing,_ screaming like some damsel in distress? The Alpha’s going to hear you, she hasn’t gone that far--”

“The Alpha,” Pandaki said, who appeared to have just caught up. Pale, he jumped to his feet. “Where is she?”

“Would both of you just _shut up!”_ Sola shrieked, making absolutely no effort to be quiet. “The Alpha has _not_ come back, that’s the whole problem! Ruya’s tracks were out there, _my daughter’s_ tracks were right where the dragon went--”

“We sent the Alpha after her,” Pandaki said. His eyes went wide. “We sent that monster after a _child!”_

“ _Your_ monster,” Aphra snapped. 

“Don’t you think I _know that?_ ” Pandaki shot back. “Ever since they escaped, I have been trying to make amends. Sola, I am not a soldier. I am not any kind of warrior, and I only have one good arm, but we _will_ save your daughter.” He sighed. “I was ready to die back there, and I will do it again, if it saves your daughter. It’s more than I deserve, really, but I’ll do it.” 

Poor Sola looked worse than she had thus far; eyes wide, shaking, looking as if she was off somewhere else and maybe about to have a panic attack. 

“Sola.” Aphra grabbed her arm, and Sola’s gaze shot toward her, terrified. “Sola, we’ll get Ruya, but we need to _go now.”_

“Yes.” Sola took a deep breath--then another. Slowly, she seemed to return to herself. “Yes, yes. I’m sorry.” Her eyes hardened. “We’ll go now.” 

Turning sharply, she sprinted out of the cave. 

“Sola--Sola, _wait!_ ” Pandaki shouted. 

_Damn, that woman’s back into Mom Mode,_ thought Aphra as Sola spun around, a wild, feral look in her eyes. 

“You know what your daughter’s footprints look like,” the doctor said. “Yes?”

Sola nodded. “Yes.” 

“Then lead us on,” Pandaki said. 

Sola nodded once more. “Follow me.” 

Aphra should have known that that meant they were sprinting again. Nevertheless, she was taken off guard when Sola fairly _leaped_ forward, faster than an eopie in mating season. Pandaki followed. 

“Oh, _hell,_ ” Aphra snarled. She did _not_ want to run again. But there was nothing she could do about it. Gathering her strength, she broke into a run, catching up to the others in a few moments. Then the three companions were running together, darting off into the darkness of the jungle. 

  
  


Vader, Luke, and Ruya had been walking for about three hours, and by Vader’s best guess, it was somewhere in the middle of the night cycle; somewhere past midnight. 

And that meant he had four days. 

It couldn’t be. Just a few hours ago, it seemed to him, it had been five days. But a lot had happened since then; they had adopted Ruya Naberrie into their company, barely escaped death--again--by the Greater krayt, and run miles to escape from _another_ krayt that apparently had the ability to turn invisible. There was much that had happened since his last observation of his son, in the tree. 

But still, the fact remained: Luke needed to turn. 

Why did time have to pass so _quickly?_

Ever so slightly, he turned his head to look back at Luke. His son was not looking at him; he walked with his head bent toward Ruya, whispering something to her. Therefore, Vader was allowed to regard Luke all he wanted, but still something burned in him; it was, he recognized, that persistent desire to have his son be...well...what he had imagined, years ago, that he would have in a son. A child who would look at him with love and respect, who would smile at him, ask him for his opinions--

Vader stopped those thoughts short and faced forward. He could not have that, he would _never_ have that; so there was no point in wishing for it. He had been foolish to believe, as--it was a curse to even think the name, but he thought it anyway--as _Anakin,_ that he could have that. A loving son, a doting father--those were the trademarks of an ordinary life, an ordinary family. And neither he nor Luke was ordinary in any sense of the word. They were Force users, he was a Sith, and Luke would be one. 

In any case, when Luke did become a Sith, he would not have such close and openly foolish relationships such as the one he had with Ruya; and with the smuggler and Organa. 

And when that day came, Vader would have nothing to be jealous of anyway. 

But the day _had to come._ Within four days. 

They only had to reach the hospital; by his estimate, there were about five miles to go, maybe less. Reach the hospital, get rid of Ruya...and get off world. 

And then, get to work on his son. 

  
  


“This…” Vinh coughed. “This is what you have to do. Listen...carefully.” 

“I’m listening,” said Piett and Veers at the same time. 

“You must…” Another cough. “You must go all the way down this corridor, and take a left.”

“Take a left,” Veers said, “yes. And from there?”

“The control room is...right, the first--first right. First door on the right.” 

Piett gave Veers a worried look. Vinh clearly didn’t have much time; they had to get the information before he died, or at least fell unconscious. 

“Yes, yes,” he said quickly. “Is it unlocked?”

“Yes,” Vinh rasped. “You will...be able to get in...one of you should stay there.” 

“One of us,” Veers echoed. “And where should the other one go?”

“The other will…” Yet again, Vinh coughed. “Go down to--to the lower levels.” 

At that, Piett’s eyes widened. “There are _lower levels?_ This isn’t all there is to the facility?”

Vinh smiled, briefly. “No...so there is a--a great chance no creatures have...gone there. You access it...from a turbolift in the same corridor as the...control room.”

“Well.” Veers snorted. “That’s easy.” 

“Easy?” Even in agony as he was, Vinh arched an eyebrow. “Oh...none of this will be easy. Many of the dragons...are still here.” 

There was, for a few moments, a terrible silence. 

“All right, and from there,” Piett said at last. “Once into the lower levels, where do we go?”

“From there...the directions are not complicated, although…” Vinh raised a shaking hand, and Piett realized he was holding something. Quickly, he took it from him, and Vinh’s hand collapsed back to rest at his injured side; the object was a light. “You will need that.”

“Of course.” Piett pocketed it. 

“Once out of the turbolift, you...you will walk straight,” said Vinh. “Do not stop anywhere, do--do not look. Many...many dangerous rooms there.” 

He was speaking in shorter sentences now. They didn’t have much time. 

“You will stop,” Vinh continued, his voice weaker, “at a door labeled ‘Power.’ You...you will have to force your way in, perhaps…” He frowned. “Does either of you have...a blaster?”

“We both do,” said Veers. 

“Good.” A weak smile curved his lips. “Then you will enter the room. Now...now you must listen, closely. A single…” He coughed, and then let out a small groan. “A single misstep...could result in catastrophe.”

At once, both men leaned closer.

“We’re listening,” Piett said. 

“The room will be small...to your right will be...the database system. Do not...do not touch that yet; you must reboot it.” 

“Don’t touch the system yet, got it,” Veers repeated. “How do we reboot it?”

“On the far wall in front of you,” said Vinh, “there is...a series of buttons...five, if I remember. The middle one is important--green. You...you must push that.” 

“Push the button. All right.” 

“That will...that will only prime the system for rebooting,” Vinh warned. “It will...not reboot it. And you must...you must not press any of the other buttons.”

“I’m guessing that could lead to the catastrophe,” Piett said dryly. 

“Quite...quite so.” Vinh opened his mouth to speak; but instead, a dry, hacking cough came out. Piett and Veers leaned back, wary of any blood, until he had finished and lay back. “After...excuse me. After pushing the button, follow the wall down to three levers. This time, find the one on the far left.” 

“Far left,” Veers echoed. 

“Pull it down…” Vinh coughed. “Then push up, then pull down.” 

“Up, down--”

“No,” Vinh corrected. “Down, up, down.” 

“Down, up, down,” Veers said. 

“Yes. That will reboot the database system. Lights will...lights will flash, alarms might go off...but _nothing_ will be back on yet, do you understand? That...that simply warns anyone else that the power is... _about_ to come back on.” Vinh cleared his throat, and coughed again. “Now...now, this will be the test as to who goes...who goes down to reboot the system. Does...does either of you speak binary?”

Piett did, but his binary was extremely rusty. 

“I do,” Veers said. “I’ve had to use it in the past, to communicate with droids and such.” 

“Very...good. That is how the system will speak to you. It...it will ask if you are a member of LARS; since...since I sent you, it is all right to say yes.” 

Veers chuckled. “All right.” 

“Then...then it will ask how you want to...to reboot the system. You will say, ‘Complete.’ For one final step...the system will ask you for a password.” 

Veers leaned closer. “Yes?”

“It is…” Vinh drew in a long breath. “The password is upper case T, lower case i, upper case C, hyphen, upper case L, lower case i...upper case C, lower case l, hyphen, upper case K, upper case C, lower case l, hy--hyphen, the number 5. TiC-LiCl-KCl-5.”

That had some sort of scientific value, Piett knew; but he couldn’t pick it out at the moment. It was only the password, after all. 

“And then the system will reboot,” Vinh said quietly.

“Thank you,” Veers said. He and Piett stood up. “We’ll get it done.” 

“Hopefully.” Vinh looked off somewhere into the distance. “As...as long as the dragons don’t get to you first.” 

  
  


Three hours ago--give or take--Aphra had run the fastest she thought she had _ever_ run in her life, and the _longest_ she’d ever run, in order to escape the Alpha. That was nothing compared to this. Sola ran like a woman possessed, and Aphra and Pandaki were forced to keep up with her. Aphra was beginning to be frustrated. Not only was it going to sap their energy enough that they wouldn’t have the strength to do anything against the Alpha, but at this speed, it would not be possible to track Ruya. 

“Slow down,” she called ahead, but Sola didn’t stop. “Hey! Sola!” 

Sola stopped short and turned around. “Is something wrong?”

Aphra scowled. “You’re going too fast.” 

Sola’s expression hardened. “Nothing is too fast to save my daughter.” 

“Maybe it is,” Aphra said. “How can you know that we’re going the right way? You can’t even stop to see the tracks!” 

Sola stared at her for several seconds. 

“I’m seeing them,” she said at last. “I barely have to look. I know what her footprints look like even from a distance, and we’re going the right way.” Sola bent as if to check. “Yes. Yes, we’re going the right…” 

Her voice trailed off. 

“What’s wrong?” Pandaki said. 

Sola was silent. 

“Sola,” Aphra called. 

“No,” Sola whispered. “No!” 

That did it. This was freaking her out. Aphra hurried to her side and knelt. “What’s…” 

Then she looked. 

There were Ruya’s tracks, about an hour old, accompanied by several others; and then, slightly to the side, dried drops of blood. 

“No,” Sola said again. “It _can’t_ be!” 

Pandaki dropped to his knees by their side. “That isn’t...she’s not--”

Aphra was suddenly filled with a desire for this kid, who she had never met, to be alive. Ignoring Sola and Pandaki, she followed the drops of blood as they ran along the road. They certainly appeared to belong to Ruya, or whoever the kid was traveling with; but the problem was, the drops of blood appeared older than the tracks. Ruya’s footprints were old, certainly, but fresh enough to clearly see the imprint of her boots; the blood was very clearly blood, but hard and dry. 

Aphra continued to follow the tracks, even as Sola continued to mutter denials and Pandaki attempted to calm her down. The blood still matched, still followed the trail exactly...and then it branched off. 

_Yes._ That was what she’d been hoping for. 

Aphra followed the blood as the drops grew larger, fingers trailing the marks in the ground, and then Sola let out an impressive string of swear words, punctuated by sobs. 

“Sola!” she snapped. “Good grief, the tracks aren’t Ruya’s!” 

Sola was at her side in an instant. Damn, it was impressive how quickly that woman could switch gears, because now she had that intense look about her again.

“How do you know?” she demanded. 

“Look.” Aphra pointed at the ground. “The age of the prints doesn’t match; and besides, these lead off away from the footprints.” 

Sola and Pandaki followed Aphra’s gaze. 

“One of Ruya’s companions, perhaps?” muttered the doctor. 

“Maybe.” Aphra continued to follow the tracks off the path. “Look at this. The drops are larger, here...mixing with the mud here...they branch off and…” Aphra wrinkled her nose. Something had been _devoured_ here, by the sight of it; there was a particularly large spray of blood on one of the trees. “And here…” 

There was a _hand_ at the foot of the tree. 

Simultaneously curious and horrified, Aphra picked up the fallen limb. It was pale, soaked in blood, and...and already hard. 

“This…” she trailed off. Pandaki examined the hand. 

“This kill happened at least a day ago,” the doctor said slowly. “So…”He looked off into the trees. “The Alpha didn’t show up before last night because she was already hunting when you arrived.” 

When they arrived. What had she been doing then? 

Faking her death came the answer; meeting Luke Skywalker, and running from Vader, and faking her death with…

“Jamet,” she whispered. Vader had never heard that Doctor Aphra had faked her death, she’d never seen him after he ran off, screaming...screaming to pull off the deception, screaming for all the world to hear--

Aphra snatched back the hand. Now that she looked at it with this specific purpose in mind, she realized that the shirt cuff at the end of the wrist, the most bloodied part of the limb, was familiar. He’d been wearing a blue shirt, a light blue shirt with long sleeves; the color matched exactly. And this was, now, all that was left of him. 

He’d been the Alpha’s first victim.

“Jamet,” Aphra breathed, her lip trembling with the terror that was threatening to take over her mind. “Jamet…” 

She couldn’t scream. She wanted to scream, with this new knowledge that the blood and spilled guts surrounding her and this hand were all that the Alpha had spared of her assistant, that he had worked with her and helped her and he’d been devoured by the monster that had just chased them; but she couldn’t. She would not find him, and he would not answer her; and beyond that, she would draw more attention to them. 

And now she needed to keep an innocent child from suffering the same fate. 

Quickly, Aphra stood up, turning to face Sola and Pandaki. 

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s go.” 

  
  


Despite taking a detour to escape being seen by the Greater krayt, Luke, Ruya, and Darth Vader had traveled many miles since then; and while Luke was not an expert at geography, he could tell that they were getting closer to the hospital. He had been to this part of the jungle before, and the space between the trees was getting wider; he doubted it would even be an hour before they had arrived. And that was excellent news for Ruya. 

But not so much for him. 

He was torn. Of course, he wanted to escape the jungle, get away from the dragons...but there was also the fact that once they reached the hospital, they would find transportation off the planet. 

And then he would be in Vader’s clutches, with no way of escape. 

Vader had not said much to him the past day; not much besides demanding he take things seriously and not pretend he was dead--clearly the man had no sense of humor whatsoever--and then demanding he stop being compassionate. Maybe the first one was possible, but the second was just a part of who he was. He couldn’t just get rid of that. 

(Also, what this proved more than anything was that Vader just really liked demanding things of him.)

But besides those two instances, Vader hadn’t said a word; and Luke knew it was because of Ruya’s presence. For some reason, Vader must not have wanted their...connection revealed to anyone. Luke had no problem with that; maybe he had accepted it--grudgingly, reluctantly, and still wished with all his heart that it _was not true_ \--but he knew what would happen if anyone found out. He’d be disowned by the Rebellion, thrown to the wolves; he’d have no one, no one but...but Vader. He shuddered at the thought. But because of that, it was so odd that Vader _wouldn’t_ want that to happen. That would be terrible for Luke, but fantastic for him; every chance he got, it seemed, he just had to mention that Luke didn’t need friends, that he needed to be alone. _That_ was why it made _no_ sense that Vader didn’t want anyone to know; but for some reason, he wanted to keep that a secret. 

So, thanks to Ruya, he hadn’t said anything to Luke all day, for fear that he might give it away. Ruya was a smart kid, after all. 

But once Ruya was gone, once it was just the two of them and Luke was _alone_ with Vader once more...it would be back to “join me or die,” back to “you’re weaker than I am because you haven’t joined the Dark Side.” And then, on the _Executor_ the nightmares he’d feared would become real…Vader would visit him every day, he was sure, batter him with demands to turn, threaten to destroy everyone he loved if he didn’t...

_Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. You won’t turn anyway._

Trying to turn his mind to something else, _anything_ else, Luke glanced down at Ruya. He’d been keeping an eye on her for the last hour, just in case; and with every passing minute she looked more miserable than ever. It hurt him to see her like this, almost hunched over, swaying slightly, her eyes red from sheer exhaustion, knowing he could do nothing about it. The second he picked her up his leg would give out. 

“Hey,” Luke said, putting a hand on her shoulder. Immediately, Ruya’s head jerked up; she’d half fallen asleep. “Hey, how’s it going?”

“It’s okay,” Ruya mumbled. “But I’m really tired, and my legs hurt, and I don’t want to walk anymore.”

“Neither do I,” said Luke, whose ankle hurt so much that he had started limping. “But we can’t stop until we get to the hospital.”

Ruya gave him an extremely sassy look that Luke was sure he used to give to Uncle Owen, and suddenly he understood why Uncle Owen had gotten after him about that. 

“And how _far_ is the hospital?” she demanded. “Another thirty hours?”

“Another--what?” Luke blinked. “No. Do you--” He stared at her. “Do you really think we’ve been walking for _thirty hours?_ ”

“Well, that’s what it feels like to me.” 

“Ruya, that’s over a day,” Luke said, hoping she wasn’t trying to make him look like an idiot in front of Vader. “A day is twenty-four hours.”

She crossed her arms. “Yeah, I know.” 

Luke sighed. “Look, I know you’re tired and you want to act contrary, but--”

“What’s contrary mean?”

He stared at her in disbelief. She was ten, she’d been raised in a palace, and she _still_ had gotten a worse education than he had?

“I don’t believe it,” he said. “It...okay. Okay, fine. Contrary is just, uh...I don’t even know how to describe it, it’s--it’s a word, it’s a word for when you’re--” He was definitely speaking loud enough for Vader to hear him, and he felt his cheeks heating up. “It means you’re just trying to go against everything I say, you’re being negative--”

“Yeah, I know what it means.” 

Luke looked back down at Ruya. She was _grinning._

She’d done that on purpose. 

“Oh, you’re messing with me,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I should’ve known, you’re way too smart not to know things like that.” 

Ruya, looking much happier now, beamed up at him. 

“It’s revenge,” she said cheerfully. “You know, for the dying prank, with the fruit.” 

_Thud._

It was only faint, the slightest of tremors, and it was gone as quickly as it had come; but Luke was so used to watching and listening for dragons that he noticed it immediately. 

He was not the only one. Vader stopped walking. 

“Is it…” Luke swallowed. “Is the dragon back on our trail?”

“There is no dragon near enough to our position,” Vader replied. “I do not understand what it is; but the dragons are not near. Let us continue, and be on your guard. From my guess, we have only one or two miles left to travel.”

Then he turned around and resumed walking. 

Now Luke felt uneasy; there was something shifting around in the Force, a possible danger, and he felt certain that it had to do with the tremor they had just felt. But they needed to keep walking. 

Ruya was looking up at him earnestly. Her smile was gone; the fear was back in her eyes. 

Luke shrugged and started walking. Ruya followed. 

The atmosphere between them had changed almost instantly. Where it had been light and joking before, now it was serious and fearful. He did _not_ want her to feel terrified the whole way; that’s how he had felt the majority of these few days, but she was a child. He forced his mind away from the tremor and back to their previous topic of conversation. 

“Anyway,” he said with a grin, “I think my prank was better.” 

In response, Ruya did the most age-appropriate thing that she could possibly have done: she stuck out her tongue at him. 

“Nuh-uh,” she said. 

“Okay, now you’re being contrary for real,” Luke said. 

Innocently, Ruya blinked up at him. “What’s that?”

Luke ruffled her hair, and she laughed. “Nice try.” 

  
  


Veers led the way. As he held the light--Vinh had only given them one--Piett followed, and both men slowly and carefully walked the path to the control room. It was only down the hallway and around a corner, but after the scientist’s warning, Piett felt certain that creatures were in the dark watching them, ready to leap at any moment. 

But at last they reached the control room; it was open, just as Vinh had told them it would be, and contained almost nothing but switches, buttons, and dozens of cameras. In the corner, a small light reached them from a handheld light; it was flickering, but still on. 

Piett turned it off. “We don’t want this to run out if we need it.” 

“Good idea.” Veers stood in front of the multiviewer, staring at the thirty-two identical black screens. “So you’ll be staying here, I assume?” 

“I don’t want to, trust me.” Piett took the light and joined Veers in front of the multiviewer. “I don’t want you going down there. But my Binary is rusty.” 

In the dim light of Vinh’s lamp, Piett got a clear view of Veers’ face as he arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Well, then I’m quite happy with this arrangement. I don’t want you going down there, either. I’m the soldier, the general; I’ll be able to handle those monsters better than you.” 

“Well, aren’t you _something,_ ” Piett said sarcastically. 

Veers wisely ignored him. “So, then, what’s the plan? Got your comm on you?”

Piett pulled it out of his jacket. “Right here.” 

“All right.” Veers drew his blaster, checked to make sure it was loaded, and returned it to his belt. “So, I’ll just head down to the lower levels and communicate with you the whole time.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Piett said. “That way I’ll be able to tell you the moment anything shows up...and I’ll know whether to come down and help you.”

Veers shook his head. “No, whatever you do, don’t do that. The second those things find me, they’ll tear me apart.” 

“Not if you shoot them,” Piett snapped, not wanting to think about it. 

“ _If._ That’s a big word. But don’t come after me...because by the time you get there, I’ll be dead.” Veers locked gazes with Piett. “And _one of us_ needs to get to Lord Vader.” 

Of course. 

“Yes, I understand,” Piett said reluctantly. “So, I won’t come for you, and you won’t come for me?”

Veers nodded grimly. “It’s what we’ll have to do.”

“Right.” Piett patted his friend on the shoulder. “Keep in touch.” 

Veers lifted his comm. “Of course.” He lifted his hand. “For the Empire.” 

Piett drew his blaster and set it on the table in front of the darkened multiviewer. “For the Empire.” 

Then Veers disappeared into the darkness. 

With a sigh, Piett sat down in a chair. “He’s got to be the hero, doesn’t he.” 

He took out his comm again and held it in his hand, waiting for Veers to say something. Whatever happened, this was going to be a very, _very_ long night. 

  
  


The silence of the night was deafening. After walking for another half an hour, Luke was limping with every step, sharp pains stabbed through his chest with every breath he took; and yet, from what he could tell, they weren’t anywhere near the edge of the jungle. He knew that they had been traveling. He knew they’d been covering ground; but everywhere he looked, everywhere he turned, the trees, the plants, the path, all appeared the same. It would have been bad enough if he wasn’t injured; but with a twisted ankle and ribs that were at the least bruised, each step aggravated the wounds and made him feel more miserable. 

“How--” he panted, the mere action of speaking sending _more_ sharp pains through his chest, “how far to the hospital?”

Vader turned to look back at them. Thanks to the mask, Luke couldn’t see his face, but somehow he knew that the Sith Lord was studying him. He shivered. He’d been with the man for two days now, and he _still_ wasn’t used to that awful sensation it gave him to be _stared_ at like that, as if Vader could see right into his soul. 

“Another mile, at least,” Vader said at last, “but not more than two.” 

One more mile. Okay, okay, that wasn’t terrible; another thirty minutes, maybe. He could do that. Just another mile with his injuries, and then they’d be there. 

And then, he supposed, it was off to the _Executor._

Vader turned his helmet back to face forward, but Luke still felt the intense prickling gaze on him; not literally, of course, but in his mind. He couldn’t guess why. Most likely, Vader had realized that Luke’s list of injuries was steadily growing; and that, Luke thought sourly, probably meant he was thinking again on how to turn him. _If you had the Dark Side,_ he would say, _then your injuries wouldn’t be such a problem, then you could heal them…_

But at that, Luke was confused. He seemed to remember that at some point on the _Falcon_ , during his brief training by Obi-Wan--and didn’t _that_ seem like years and years ago--Obi-Wan had mentioned something about Force healing. But he hadn’t heard it since; not from Obi-Wan’s ghost, not from Yoda. So was it really just a Dark Side ability? Or was Vader intentionally trying to trick him? 

He just didn’t know, he didn’t know _anything!_ He was so inexperienced, he knew _nothing_ compared to Vader...and that was the problem. He would love to be able to heal himself, but could he do it without using the Dark Side? 

He was going to figure that out, he decided. 

“I’m tired,” Ruya mumbled for the fourteenth time. She was half leaning on Luke as she walked, fortunately on the side with his uninjured leg. 

Luke sighed. “I know. We’ll be there soon.” 

“I know,” Ruya said quietly. She hadn’t said much else in the last half hour. 

Luke sighed again. In the last two days, he’d grown attached to this kid; he couldn’t explain it. He liked kids, but he hadn’t really interacted with any since leaving Tatooine; but then Ruya Naberrie had come along, and he’d felt an immediate sense of...belonging. It was something he couldn’t explain, something he didn’t understand, it was just a powerful feeling that he liked her, he didn’t want to leave her, he kept on wanting to hear her laugh, and that he wanted to protect her. It was like...like...there was something there, that he couldn’t put a finger on. It was like…

Then it dawned on him. 

It was like his friendship with Leia. 

And now _that_ was peculiar, because Ruya was continuing to remind him of Leia in numerous ways--ways that hurt, because of how much he missed Leia, how much he wanted to call her and tell her that everything was all right and he wasn’t dead. She looked like Leia. She had Leia’s sharp wit, her sense of humor. She had the same sparkling look in her brown eyes--and the eyes were the same, too--when she was causing mischief, or having a laugh. She had, for a little kid, an amazing amount of determination; and she also, despite being afraid, had no fear when it came to sassing out Darth Vader. Luke couldn’t say the same for himself. 

Maybe Ruya and Leia were some sort of distant cousins, he wondered; and then he almost laughed, despite his ribs. Now, _that_ would be funny. 

But then there was Vader’s odd decision to spare Ruya’s life. It had seemingly come out of nowhere, but Luke could tell he had had his reasons...reasons he did _not_ want to discuss with Luke. 

_Maybe, maybe,_ whispered a voice in his mind. _Maybe it means he cares about people...he’s got a shred of humanity left…_

But Vader also seemed to detest Ruya. So it couldn’t be any kind of compassion.

But then, _what was it?_

That, too, Luke was going to find out. Though he was almost afraid to ask, though he knew the explosion of rage that would come if he did, he was going to find out. 

So, reluctant but determined, he reached into the Force, welcoming the bright, pleasant feeling that settled in him and heightened his senses. After dwelling with that for a moment, basking in it, he extended his presence, reaching toward Vader. 

Instantly, Vader turned toward him, the dark--tendrils, no, anything but that--reaching back toward him. 

_“Luke,”_ said the dark voice inside his mind, and he had to fight to hold the contact; very soon he would be a prisoner of the Empire, and then Darth Vader would grant him nothing. “ _What is it?”_

 _“I have a question,”_ Luke thought back, already envisioning the flood of anger that he was going to get in response. 

Why was a _ten-year-old_ better at talking to Vader than he was?

 _Maybe it’s because she doesn’t have to fight a battle with him for her soul._ Well. That was true. 

_“What is it? Be quick.”_

Luke swallowed. _Here goes nothing._

_“Well, I was just wondering--”_

_Thud._

Luke drew back from the Force immediately. There it was again: another soft tremor, once again barely noticeable, but _still there._

He stopped. Ruya, barely awake, stumbled against him. 

Instantly, Vader spun around. “Do not stop! We must keep going.”

“But what if it _is_ another dragon?” Luke demanded. “Just because you can’t see it in the Force doesn’t mean--”

“Yes, it does. There is no dragon. But in case there _is,_ we cannot stop for anything. There is now less than a mile.” Sharply, Vader turned back. “Continue.” 

So, as Luke’s feeling of unease grew worse, they continued.

  
  


His son was nearly spent. 

Vader knew this; he had known for some time, in the back of his mind, and as they neared the hospital it became clear to him. Luke was injured in two places, somehow he was walking, and there were around three-quarters of a mile to go. He could not get him out of the jungle fast enough, it seemed; and all the while, there was still the question of danger. 

Was there a dragon following them, or not? 

Non-sentient creatures were difficult to track in the Force. Of course, any non-Force sensitive was difficult; but they were certainly easier, due to having thoughts and emotions and mental processes that he could read, were he close enough. While he could not find their exact location, that brain activity made it easy enough for him to track their general position. 

Non-sentient beings were different. They had thoughts and mental processes, of course; but those worked on a different matter altogether. Those creatures were not as highly evolved as sentient beings, and therefore their thoughts were not as clear, not as easy to read. So while Vader could tell that three large dragons were in the jungle, and he could tell in which general direction they were heading, he did not know which dragon was which; and furthermore, he was not completely sure if the positions he had on the three of them were correct. Sometimes they remained steady, sometimes they shifted; for as adept as he was in the Force, as skilled as he was, not even he could have told the exact position of the dragons. They were not sentient. It was impossible. 

Naturally, he had not told Luke any of this. Then the boy would only ask more questions; and besides, if he wanted to know, he could reach into the Force himself. In fact, Vader wanted him to. He wanted Luke to push himself beyond what he believed were his limits, to naturally reach for the Dark Side. 

But now, as dawn began to approach--it was visible in the very first glimmer of light that poked through the trees--Vader put those thoughts of Luke and the Force beyond him. 

_What was causing those tremors?_

He had told Luke there was no dragon near; in truth, he did not know for certain, but he had been monitoring them, and there was no warning from the Force. If there was danger he would know, he continued to tell himself. He would know…

But then, what was causing the tremors?

And why were they not constant? Why was there only one here, another there? As far as he was concerned, no krayt dragon hunted like that; once it had found them, it would go after them. 

And they would know it was coming. 

_Thud._

There it was again. 

And Luke had said that one of them was invisible. 

“Faster,” he barked over his shoulder to Luke and Ruya. “We must go faster; we are nearly at the hospital.” 

Despite his exhaustion, Luke picked up the pace immediately; Ruya followed. And then Vader returned his thoughts to the invisible dragon. Thus far he had not seen it, he had only heard of it, and assumed that it was the one they had heard coming after them; how could a dragon be invisible? Clearly it had been created to be so. And that was the fault of that infernal doctor, Pandaki; Vader would _kill_ him once he found him, if the Mirialan had not been killed already. The doctor would wish he had never created the dragons; he would _beg_ for death, and no matter how angry Luke was about it, Vader would not show mercy. The doctor had wreaked more than enough havoc. 

And then the question of the invisible dragon returned to him. 

Even if it was invisible, how could it be hunting them? From the echo of the footsteps, the dragon was clearly _large._ If it was coming after them, Vader would know it. 

Still they kept walking, ever faster. 

They had to reach the hospital.They were almost there; they had to reach it.

Vader cast his sense into the Force once again, hunting for the dragons. One was about twenty miles south somewhere; another was close to the first; and a third was about eight miles away. 

That must be the third, either the Greater krayt or the invisible krayt. It was near them; but not too close. Not close enough. 

And that solved the problem. No wonder they could feel its footsteps echoing, only faintly; it was coming nearer, but not near enough to feel it constantly. Of course. 

So now he stopped, turning around to address Luke and Ruya. 

“From my sense,” he said, “we are half a mile from the hospital; and one dragon is eight miles or so behind us. That is why we can feel it. If we hurry at our current pace, we will reach the hospital safely.” 

Visibly, Luke released a breath. He had a hand clutched to his chest. 

“And then I’ll see my mom?” Ruya asked quietly. Vader was glad that the journey had exhausted her; it meant an end to the intolerable sarcasm. 

Her eyes were wide and anxious. She looked nothing like Luke in appearance, but Vader had seen his son wear that expression almost constantly over the last two and a half days. 

“Yes,” he replied. “Then we will deliver you to your mother.” 

_Danger,_ whispered the Force. They needed to leave. 

“And now we must hurry,” he said, turning back around. “It is nearer.” 

He did not run, but he set off at the fastest march he was capable of; Luke and Ruya came behind him, slower, but within eyesight. The trees were beginning to thin out now; they were getting nearer to the hospital. 

_Thud._

And now that was nearer. Anxious, Vader looked into the Force once more. It took a few moments to pin down that third dragon, but then he found it. By his guess, from what he knew of the jungle, it was now about six miles away. 

“Hurry,” he said once more. 

He looked over his shoulder. Luke and Ruya were both panting, Luke was leaning on his right leg, the uninjured one; so Vader hesitated a moment to wait for them to catch up. Then, once they were within about two meters, he began the march again. 

_Faster,_ he willed himself on, and broadcast the thought toward his son in the hope that it would drive Luke on as well. _Faster._

And still the trees thinned out. 

“I know this place,” Luke called out at last. “I’ve been here! We’re almost there!” 

They were just words, just excitement to spur Ruya on; but they struck Vader as the first positive words that Luke had ever said to Vader. Maybe not on purpose, maybe not aimed at him directly...but they were meant for him to hear, at least, and they were joyful. 

Maybe that meant he was getting somewhere...maybe…

“I see it!” Ruya shouted; and there, through a gap in the trees just wide enough to see through, was the hospital, a tiny gray speck in the distance. “There it is!” 

“An astute observation,” Vader said, turning around to address the cousins; he did not have time to look, had no time to check where the dragon was. They just had to walk, and they would be there. “Hurry.” 

Almost there. They were _almost there,_ and then he would have Luke with him, permanently. Turning to face forward once more, Vader marched even faster. 

And then Luke screamed. 

Panic raced through Vader; cold, heart-stopping panic, and he turned around. “Luke!” 

Luke screamed again, and then Vader saw why.

Luke was half on the ground, clutching his injured leg, the one he’d twisted in his fall, which was...in the air. It was absolutely bewildering; the leg was in midair, as if caught by something, and he and Ruya were tugging at it desperately, even as blood began to spill and whatever was making the wounds dug deeper, into flesh and bone. As Vader watched, horrified, they at last yanked it free; Luke fell to the ground, horrible, wet shouts torn from his throat that were almost unbearable to listen to. Still shouting in pain, Luke clutched at the wounds on his calf, now streaming blood that soaked his hands and his trousers. Ruya was screaming as well, but her screams were less pained and more terrified as she tried to drag Luke backwards, away from--from--

Vader looked up. 

At first there was nothing; nothing but a shimmering void hovering over his son and the girl. Then, as the first rays of sunrise streamed in through the trees, the void shimmered more fiercely, and several low-hanging branches revealed themselves not to be branches at all but the head of a dragon. Then, as Vader watched, other branches and plants and pieces of nature shifted to reveal the rest of her body, slightly smaller than the Greater krayt’s, thinner, but no less dangerous. There were teeth sharper and longer than the Greater's, powerful limbs, and a pair of eyes that were too intelligent, too all-knowing for such a ruthless beast. 

She had not been invisible; of course not. He should have known. Instead she had the ability to camouflage herself, and the Force had been _wrong._

She had been right behind them the whole time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so first of all I would like to say
> 
> ...that I am sorry 
> 
> Second of all, hope you enjoyed! :D


	22. Fourth Iteration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Alpha: Round Two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to KaelinaLovesLomaris as always for looking over!

The world was a blur of blood and pain. 

For several excruciating seconds, Luke was not aware of anything else; pain was all he could feel, concentrated solely in his leg, and all he could do in response was scream. He couldn’t even have described it; all he knew was _pain,_ hot and blinding and torturous. Then, as his senses began to clear and he saw the world around him, Luke became aware of the blood--soaking his trouser leg, seeping into the earth, sticking to his hands. Blood and pain, that’s all there was. 

There was nothing else. 

What had happened? 

What was happening?

He didn’t know. Nothing else mattered. 

_Pressure,_ his mind thought at him suddenly. _Put pressure on the wound._

So he did, even though it ripped more screams from his throat and felt like he was repeatedly stabbing a knife into the wound. It would staunch the blood flow, and he knew he’d already lost blood; it was all over him. So he laid there on the ground in the growing pool of his own blood, forcing himself to exist in agony for the sake of saving his own life. 

And then he became aware of the dragon looming over him. 

She had been right behind them, she had tried to grab him; and now her jaws were dripping with his blood. She _hadn’t_ been invisible, maybe she’d melted out of the trees, or something...but now she was there, and he could see her at last.

And she was _terrifying._

It was the eyes, he realized, as he got enough of a handle on his pain that his screams faded to ragged gasps. Those black eyes were both intelligent and merciless at once, and they told him everything about their owner. She was clever, and sneaky, and ruthless, and would stop at nothing to have them. 

There were also the long teeth, stained with his blood, and the horns on top of the head, and the gigantic size of the thing...but nothing was as terrifying as those eyes.

“Luke!” Ruya was screaming, eyes blown wide--right, Ruya, he had to protect her. But somehow he couldn’t even bring himself to move, let alone sit up. “ _Luke!_ ” 

The dragon wasn’t even _doing_ anything. She was just standing there, waiting...no. Now she was moving, her head rushing down--

“No!” In a flash, Ruya pulled something from her pocket--and then, to Luke’s absolute surprise, a series of shots echoed. Blaster shots. The kid had a blaster, and she was firing at the dragon. 

Luke’s world was still vague and fuzzy and filled with pain, but he knew that would end terribly. 

And yet, he still couldn’t bring himself to sit up. 

Shots echoed, again and again. 

_Get up. Get up, you absolute idiot, get_ up! 

But he couldn’t. And the shots kept echoing, missing, going wide and then--then, there was a dull _clang_ as one struck its target. 

The dragon hissed, and then Ruya screamed again. 

Luke turned his head to look at her. The girl was lying on her face; the back of her shirt was bloody. The dragon must have swiped at her, with its claws, the front limbs--and now she was motionless on the ground. 

In an instant, Luke forgot his pain. He couldn’t stand, he didn’t even want to _try_ to stand, but he didn’t need to. All he saw was red; that _thing_ had hurt Ruya, and he didn’t know how badly, and whatever happened, whether he died or not, he _was not_ going to let it happen again. 

Slowly, fighting the agony that the action brought, he dragged himself into a sitting position. 

Just in time to see the monster step towards Ruya. 

“No!” Luke screamed, but the dragon didn’t attack yet. Instead, she approached slowly--one step, then another step closer, and another-- _no, no, no, stop!_ But she wouldn’t. Nothing he could do would make her stop. 

Except…

Another step closer. 

_Ruya could not die._

Furious and terrified, Luke raised one of the hands from his wound; he didn’t care that it was covered in blood, didn’t care that it meant he might lose _more_ blood. All he knew was that back in the facility, he had used the Force to drive the Greater krayt back, and he could do it here. 

The dragon bent over Ruya. 

Ruya didn’t move. 

“HEY!” Luke shouted with all the strength he could muster. With a hiss, the dragon spun towards him, and without a second’s hesitation he _slammed_ the Force into her. She flinched, but didn’t budge; and even though there was red at the edges of his vision now, Luke didn’t care. He pushed harder, a strength he’d never used before rushing through him, imagining that the Force was a tool with which he could squeeze the life force out of that dragon, the monster who never should’ve existed. He squeezed harder, thinking past his pain, only seeing Ruya on the ground and knowing that he wanted to kill that dragon. 

Finally, it worked. She moved back one step, then another, then a horrible, gurgling hiss--she was being choked--

_He was using the Dark Side._

Horror rushed through him; horror, and hot, burning shame that somehow eclipsed the rising pain of his wound. Luke stopped immediately, his blood-stained hand dropping back to the ground. His leg _burned,_ but worse than that was the knowledge that he had used the Dark without any prompting from Vader. All it had taken was a bit of anger and he’d _leaped_ for it. 

He’d barely had to try.

_It is your destiny…_

_No,_ he thought desperately, _no! I won’t, I won’t, I won’t--_

A bloodcurdling roar shook the earth. 

Slowly, he looked back at the dragon. 

And then Luke could only watch in horror as she broke into a run, covering great distances in a moment. He hadn’t moved her very far at all, and already she was almost on top of him; she was going to kill him. 

And he couldn’t do anything about it, because he could not use the Dark Side.

Forgetting his wound, Luke raised both arms over his head as a meager form of protection. He knew it wouldn’t help, but all he wanted was to not die, and now he was going to--

Without warning, the Force _exploded_ with fury. There was a roar of rage from behind him, and then the dragon was sent flying through the air. Shocked, in pain, and more than a little dazed, Luke could only stare as Vader _leaped over him_ and landed on the ground, causing it to shake slightly. 

But the dragon wasn’t nearly down for the count. With a cry that was somewhere between a roar and a scream, she leaped to her feet, causing the ground to shake almost twenty times more than Vader had. 

In response, Vader drew his lightsaber. 

  
  
  


If only Luke hadn’t stopped, Vader thought in anger. If only he hadn’t stopped attacking the dragon, if only he’d kept on using the Dark Side and not been frightened by it...but Vader had suspected that Luke would cave. He should have stepped in. He should have stepped in the _moment_ Luke had been injured, but first he had been too shocked; and then, when it looked as if Luke might destroy the dragon _and_ use the Dark Side simultaneously--which, of course, was the only way to do it--Vader had been willing to step back. To watch. To be proud, to feel _triumphant_ as Luke embraced his true potential for the first time. 

But he should have known. Luke had been so resistant to touch the Dark at all, so afraid of it, that _of course_ he would realize what he was doing and stop. 

And now it was up to Vader to take care of the dragon. 

He waited, furious, as it wheeled back towards them, already leaping forward; that, he realized, was the one thing that made it more dangerous than the Greater krayt. The Greater ran, and it ran quickly...but this one, while slightly smaller, also seemed to have the ability to _leap._

But Vader would be ready for it. He stood, lightsaber drawn; but he would not use it. Not yet.

First he would make the creature _suffer._

When it was thirty meters from him, Vader clenched his hand into a fist. The same gurgling sounds escaped it again, the same that Luke had drawn from it...but against all odds, the dragon _continued to run._ Slower, more stumbling, but _as it was choking_ it drew closer, thundering footsteps bringing her ever closer. Frustrated, Vader squeezed harder, pouring all the strength of the Force into killing this thing.

Once again, the dragon slowed slightly. 

But still it kept coming. 

Vader could not _understand_ it. Clearly, he was harming this thing; it was in tremendous pain. And yet, it seemed to have the ability to fight through the pain, more so than any creature he had ever come across in his life. Why? Why would it not drop to the ground immediately?

He could take no pleasure in a torment that wasn’t _working._

Twenty meters. 

“She’s--she’s not going to stop,” gasped Luke behind him. “You have to--”

“Quiet,” Vader told him, mostly for the sake of Luke’s injury. He wasn’t screaming now, thank the _Force_ he wasn’t screaming any longer, because it had been awful to listen to; but when he wasn’t speaking he was either making quiet gasps or groans, and Vader didn’t want to hear _any_ of that. He didn’t want to hear his son be in any pain, because it _stabbed_ at him. 

He had not realized it until now, but it was true. 

He never wanted to hear Luke scream like that ever again. 

And he would do whatever it took to make that happen; but he couldn’t think about it, or why, or what that meant for him, because the dragon was now ten meters, and he was continuing to _try_ to kill it--but it wasn’t _stopping--_

Vader’s bond with his son flared suddenly to life; whether on purpose or not, he didn’t know, but it was drenched with Luke’s desperation. 

_No,_ he thought stubbornly, even as the dragon continued its deadly approach, _I am_ going _to kill it. It_ will _begin to die, because_ I want it to. 

But it did not die. Through the pain, it came closer, lumbering, staggering, but it did not stop. 

Another two paces, for a thing of its size, and it would have him. 

“ _Father!”_ Luke screamed out behind him. “Stop!” 

_The second time._

That counted as the second time that Luke had--

Vader stopped. 

Luke was right. For once, his son was right. 

Relieved of the pressure around its throat, the dragon hesitated a moment and plowed on, taking a giant, terrifying leap into the air--

Luke’s fear flared once again. 

Vader, on the other hand, was unaffected, because he had another weapon at his disposal. 

His lightsaber. 

He had precious little time, but time was nothing where the Force was concerned. His lightsaber had remained steady in his right hand the whole time, and as he lowered his left hand, he shifted his attention to that hand, focused all his power there. He knew where he would strike, even as the thing bore down on him; he could see it clearly: the chest. He could easily slice off one of its limbs, but then it would still have the other three, and what Vader had learned of this thing was that it was incredibly resilient. 

No. The wound would have to be fatal. 

Time seemed to slow. Vader could hear everything: the thudding footsteps of the dragon, enough to shake the earth; the whispering of the trees; Ruya’s groans as she finally awoke; and his son’s gasps of pain. 

The latter fueled his rage. The Force was drenched with his rage. 

Ten seconds, and she would be there. 

_The Force_ is _my rage._

“Do something!” Luke shouted, his voice cracking on the last syllable. 

_I am,_ Vader thought smugly, throwing his entire strength into the Force. _Watch me, son. This is what power looks like._

The dragon was on him, her head sweeping down--

The Force was with him; Vader could sense it. Confidence flooded his veins as he moved with the speed of a viper, swinging his blade upward--

It did not pierce. 

The next moments were a blur. Utterly shocked, stunned beyond belief, Vader could only stand there as the hybrid dragon caught him in the chest with several of her front claws. Fortunately, she missed his life support; but he was still thrown through the air, coming to his senses only in time to slow his fall with the Force. But the fall still damaged something in his suit; when he sat up, his left arm wouldn’t work properly. 

That didn’t matter; he could fix it when they got off Felucia. For now, he had three remaining limbs at his disposal, and the Force was still with him; that would have to be enough. 

But the question still rang in his mind: _why had his lightsaber not harmed the dragon?_

It had to be something on its chest, some sort of biological enhancement that was impervious to lightsabers. As he sat up, dragged himself to his feet, Vader looked toward the dragon and noticed that there seemed to be a kind of _scales_ across its chest, not too noticeable in the dim light of the morning, but that would certainly explain why his lightsaber had not pierced the creature. 

But if that were true…

And the dragon was incredibly resistant to any kind of pain he might inflict on it through the Force…

It would be almost impossible to kill that thing. 

But, impossible or not, the dragon was now once again standing over his son. Luke was clutching Ruya to his side with one arm, the other pressed to his wound; but all the same, Vader could feel Luke’s consciousness beginning to waver in the Force. 

_No,_ Vader snarled, and felt Luke jolted into alarm. _You must stay awake, do you understand?_

Across the space between them, the trees and plants at the edge of the jungle, Vader saw Luke nod. The girl was awake, making small whimpers as she looked up at the dragon; for several seconds Luke did nothing. 

But he was getting ready to do something. Vader could feel it, and he gathered the Force around him in response; whatever they could do against that thing, it would have to be enough. Somehow, he had to get Luke and Ruya, both injured, to the hospital with a lightsaber-resistant, pain-tolerant dragon on their tail. 

Vader could feel Luke fighting through the pain as the dragon finished its approach; he waited, wanting his son to reach that point on his own. If Luke could learn how to control his own pain with the Force, to go on enduring, then he would be strong. Wounds would not matter to him. 

_But I do not want him to be wounded at all._

Vader shook off the conflicting thoughts and focused back on the Force, on Luke. The dragon had stopped altogether; she seemed to be waiting, to be savoring the look of her wounded prey, ready for consumption. 

Vader’s right hand clenched into a fist. 

Luke took a deep breath. 

Then, abruptly, he let go of Ruya, drew his blaster, and started firing. 

_Now._ With the dragon distracted, Vader stretched out his hand and thrust the power of the Dark Side at it, willing it to die and be destroyed, to suffer worse than it had suffered in the entirety of its worthless existence. 

_Die,_ he thought at it. _Die!_

All the while, Luke kept firing. 

And then the dragon _screamed._

It was a horrible sound, all the awfulness of its great roars raised up in volume and with more agony, more hatred, more fear. But although Ruya slammed her hands over her ears and Luke flinched, it was joyous to Vader. Victorious. 

It meant that they were winning. 

The dragon stumbled sideways, the earth shaking tremendously as the monster continued to scream in horrible agony. It was weakening. 

_Yes,_ thought Vader, pouring more of himself into his attack. He almost had the thing; the fight was almost over. He could sense it, could sense, at last, the creature’s fear and terror, and he _reveled_ in it. _Die, and be destroyed at last--_

In its agony, the dragon was utterly unaware of everything else around it; it turned and twisted, shaking the earth, and then coming closer to Luke and Ruya. Desperately, Vader pushed it away; after a horrible few seconds, it turned, away from the two injured cousins. 

Vader let out a sigh of relief. 

And then the tail swung, all four meters of it, to come crashing into Luke. 

_NO!_

Luke was thrown through the air, blaster flying from his hand, that fall would be horrible--

Vader had to let go. 

Reluctantly, he stopped choking the dragon and focused all his strength on Luke. _Stop the fall, stop it, stop it, stop it…_

At the last second, Luke slowed down. But it had not been enough. 

With force that made Vader wince, Luke slammed into a thick tree with a scream. He was closer to Vader now, about fifty meters away, so that Vader could clearly see the anguish writ large on his face. 

Fury raged through him. He had to help Luke. He had to get him off the planet, _now--_

Except that the dragon, recovered, had stepped toward Ruya. 

Terrified, the girl edged backward; she was trying to grab Luke’s blaster, Vader realized. But she’d been wounded, there were cuts on her back--and as she dragged herself across the ground, she screamed. 

Luke’s consciousness wavered again in the Force. 

Not both of them, _not both of them!_

Vader faced a terrible choice. Luke, his son, his _only son,_ had been injured badly by the dragon, was facing unconsciousness, losing more blood with every second; he had to save him. But if he saved Luke, then that would mean letting one of _her_ relatives die...the child of _her sister…_

Sola’s child…

A child who looked more like her than Luke did, between the dark eyes, the sharp wit--the tenacity--

He could not let both of them die. 

Yet he could only save one. 

_No._

He could do anything in the Force, _anything--_

But he had not sensed this dragon. 

He could not kill the dragon. 

The dragon bent over Ruya. 

Luke’s consciousness dipped. 

_NO!_

The _roar_ in the Force accomplished two things: it distracted the dragon for one moment and shocked Luke back to consciousness. 

_Luke,_ **_stay awake,_ **Vader demanded. 

At first there was nothing. Then, a brief impression, Luke’s presence touched his, willingly, tinged with relief--

And what a novel feeling _that_ was--

 _Save Ruya,_ Luke thought at him faintly. _Save her, please._

Yes. He had to; he saw that now. 

But how much blood had Luke lost? How could he save Ruya, when his son was growing weaker by the moment?

But at least Luke was alive. 

The dragon roared in Ruya’s face. 

_Do something._

Once more, Vader stretched out his hand toward the dragon, reached for its cold, primal mind, touched it--

_Look at me. Look at me._

The dragon was already in pain. But it did not look at him. 

It was _ignoring_ him. On purpose. Because it understood that he was the threat, that he was not an ideal prey; so it would go for the smallest, weakest-looking thing in sight. 

Vader continued to squeeze, but it was worthless; this monster was too intelligent, too brilliant, almost _human_ in its capacity for evil. He could not do it. There was only one other option, and this would not work; but it would at least distract the thing. 

Vader let go, reached for the weapon lying several meters away, and called it into his hand. 

The dragon bent over Ruya--

Vader ignited his lightsaber. 

At long last, the dragon looked up, if only to roar, to let loose a final scream before descending on its prey--and then it was struck in the face by an explosive blast of light. 

Vader lowered his lightsaber, confused. Where had _that_ come from?

With a roar, the dragon stumbled backward, the earth shaking once more under her footsteps, and turned her head in the direction the explosion had come from. 

For exactly three seconds, there was silence. 

Then a _barrage_ of blaster bolts came out of the jungle behind them, straight at the dragon, one after another like hail; they didn’t do much, not the way the first explosion did, but they drove the dragon back as a woman, clad in walking clothes and with her hair done up in a very elaborate style--a very odd combination--leaped out of the forest, her teeth bared in a snarl. 

“You will not _touch_ my daughter again,” the woman declared fiercely. 

The truth hit Vader like cold water. 

Sola. 

That was Sola Naberrie. The sister. _Her_ sister, and Ruya’s mother. He had met her once, long ago in the beautiful house on the lake; she had been happy. She had even joked with him--

Now she was older and full of rage. She was _her_ sister, and her rage was as great as a Sith's. 

But then, she _was_ currently saving her child from a dragon. 

Behind Sola came another explosion of light; the dragon was struck in the chest this time, reared back, and then landed _hard_ on all fours, and let out the loudest roar Vader had heard from it. 

But the creator of the explosion was far from terrified. 

Doctor Aphra-- _Doctor Aphra--_ dropped from a tree, landed, and grinned at the dragon before unleashing another blast. The dragon screamed. 

“Ha!” Aphra primed her weapon and fired again; of course that was her contraption. “How do you like that, you fat old bitch?” 

What were the odds that Chelli Lona Aphra and Sola Naberrie would be working together? 

Nevertheless, they were attacking the dragon, but they would not be able to defeat her alone; already, she was getting angry. Besides, Vader _refused_ to have Aphra save the situation alone. He would never hear the end of it. 

Vader wished more than anything that he could simply unleash his lightsaber on the creature, but he had seen that that was impossible. So instead he extinguished his blade, returned it to his belt, and then stalked closer to the dragon, reaching out once more with the Force. The dragon hissed and shrieked at them, but that was all. 

“Fire!” he snarled at Aphra. 

Aphra whirled around, as if noticing him for the first time; but she seemed to recognize that there were bigger problems to deal with. Giving him a curt nod, she turned back around and unleashed another blast from her contraption. Sola continued firing from her blaster, and stepping up beside them, Vader continued to drive all his strength against the creature. He had no idea now what was happening with Luke or Ruya; the first step was to get rid of this thing. 

But even as it staggered back, the dragon continued to fight; it swept its claws forward, bit at them, and swung its tail so that Vader, Aphra, and Sola were forced to duck and dodge around it. 

Quickly, Vader monitored Luke’s consciousness. 

Fading again. 

_No more,_ he decided. 

“Aphra,” he shouted over the dragon’s screams; once more, there was fear in her eyes as she looked at him. “Now!” 

Aphra clenched her teeth, stepped back, and fired. It was close enough, and would have caught the dragon in the side of the head; but that would not be enough. Vader tracked its progress, followed it with the Force; and then, at the last second, altered its trajectory so that it caught the dragon right in the eyes. 

That did it. The dragon shrieked, head flailing back as it tried to fight through the pain in its face; and then, with one last scream, it turned and ran off into the jungle. 

In seconds, it was gone. 

  
  


As her adrenaline left her and the sounds of the dragon died away, Sola took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself. This was too much information to process. It was bad enough that Ruya had just almost been _eaten_ by that thing, that _monster--_ but to discover that her daughter had been in the company of _Darth Vader_ for an entire day? That Ruya had been alone with a monster of a different kind, the very man who had killed her sister? A monster who should have _killed_ her, who had somehow, for some reason, spared her life?

It was terrifying. 

Sola knew that she should thank him. She understood full well that Vader had probably saved her daughter’s life; but the very idea of thanking him, of offering any sort of gratitude to that creature that was barely a man...it was repulsive. She could not do it. 

So she stood and stared straight ahead, ignoring the absolutely terrifying sound of that respirator only five meters to her left. 

And then a different sound fell on her ears. 

“Mama!” 

Sola turned around, slowly remembering why she had come at all. 

“ _Mama!”_

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Ruya had dragged herself to her feet and was now half running, half stumbling towards her. Her daughter was clearly wounded, obviously hurt; but she was here, and she was safe, and she was _alive._

“Ruya,” Sola gasped, dropping instantly to her knees so that Ruya could run straight into her arms; and when she did, when Sola once again touched the child who she had brought into the world, she squeezed her tightly, hardly daring to believe that she could once again run her hands through the long, dark hair and feel the small limbs that trembled against her. A choked sob made its way to her throat, and Sola pressed her face against Ruya’s head, allowing her tears to wet the brown curls. “Oh, Ruya.” 

“Mama--” Ruya sniffed, and Sola realized she was crying, too. “Mama, I’m sorry, I’m _so sorry,_ I shouldn’t have left--”

“Oh, honey, it’s all right.” Of course Sola was angry that it had happened; but she was not angry with Ruya, not at the moment, because now her daughter was _safe_ and in her arms. “It’s fine, it’s fine, you’re with me--” 

Overcome by happiness and relief, Sola hugged Ruya tighter, one hand moving to run soothingly down her daughter’s back; and then Ruya cried out. 

Sola knew it immediately. Ruya had been injured. 

“Ruya,” she said sharply, pulling back to look her daughter over. “You’re hurt. Where?” 

Ruya shook her head slowly, maybe not realizing she’d been hurt at all; but Sola was already turning her around, because it had been having her back touched, hadn’t it, that’s what had done it--

Sola froze. Ruya’s shirt was shredded and oozing blood. 

She wished the dragon would come back. She wished _so badly_ that the dragon could come back, so that she could kill it with her bare hands. 

But she had to remain calm for Ruya’s sake. 

“Mama,” Ruya said, “what are you doing?”

“I’m just going to look at your back,” Sola said, straining to keep her voice level. “I think you were wounded there.” Immediately, she felt Ruya stiffen. “It might hurt a little, but I’m going to be as gentle as I can.” 

Ruya nodded, and slowly, Sola pulled the torn flaps of the girl’s shirt away to look at the skin underneath. It wasn’t as bad as she’d thought, but somehow also worse. There were three long cuts down the center of Ruya’s back, and all of them were bleeding freely. 

“Okay,” she said, half to herself. “Okay, not the worst, not terrible…”

“Mama?” Ruya said, uncertainly. 

Sola turned Ruya back around to look at her and forced a smile. “Don’t worry, the hospital’s right there and we’ll get you in a bed next to Grandmother.” 

“But it _hurts,_ ” Ruya said, pouting slightly. 

Good. She was starting to return to herself. 

“I know,” Sola said, wiping a drop of blood from her daughter’s cheek. “Before we even leave, I know someone who can help you at least feel a little bit better.” She looked around, but Aphra was nowhere to be seen; Pandaki had emerged from the trees and was approaching them. “Aphra?”

Ruya frowned. “Is this that other woman?”

“Yes,” Sola said. “She’s been a big help.” 

Ruya started to look over her shoulder, then gave a small cry as the movement pulled at her back. Sola put a hand on her head. 

“Don’t move,” she told Ruya sternly. “It’s not good.” 

“Okay,” Ruya said. “But I think I saw Aphra go…” She pointed to Sola’s left. “That way.” 

Sola looked. They were on the edge of the jungle now, only one more line of trees standing between them and the wide open; but behind Ruya, deeper into the jungle, Aphra was walking towards a particularly large tree. Someone was there, she realized, someone was lying there; she squinted. It was a young man, and he appeared to be unconscious. 

“We’ll let her help that boy first,” Sola said. “He looks like he needs it.” 

“He does,” Ruya said. 

She knew him. 

And just like that, Sola knew that the situation was not as bad as it appeared to be; because it meant that Vader wasn’t the only...person...Ruya had been traveling with. 

Sola turned back to look at her daughter. “Who is he? How do you know him?”

Ruya was looking at her like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “Luke Skywalker. He saved me from the dragon, that’s why he’s worse off.” 

Luke Skywalker. 

_Traveling with Darth Vader._

Sola had suspected it; Bail Organa had told her, years ago, that it might be true, and she hadn’t believed him, because Anakin was said to have died at the hand of Vader, because Anakin had been a _good man_. But all the while she’d seen the similarities, and had told herself that it wasn’t true. Now, however, now she saw it. A creature with that much power in the Force...unstoppable in battle…without fear...

And for what other reason would he have spared her daughter?

 _She must have told him her name,_ Sola realized faintly. _She told him her name, otherwise he would have killed her, because that’s what Darth Vader did to the children in the Temple--_

He also had done that…to his wife. 

No. No. _No,_ it wasn’t true. She refused to believe it. Because if it was true…

Sola felt sick. 

If it was true, it meant that the tragic story of Queen Amidala, of her sister, was...even worse. She hadn’t been killed by her husband’s killer just hours after his death. She had been killed by...her _husband._

But that wasn’t all. 

Not only had Padmé--Sola allowed herself to think the name for the first time in twenty-two years--not only had Padmé been killed by Anakin--who was _Darth Vader,_ the rumors _were_ true--but her child had survived. 

Padmé’s child was Luke Skywalker, hero of the Rebellion. 

And that made him... _her nephew._

And, she realized, he had been with his father for almost three days. Did he know? Had he been told? 

And, if so, how _much_ did he know?

Did he even know Ruya was his cousin?

Sola would have to find out. But regardless, she couldn’t help but feel for Luke, for the nephew she suddenly had; because he was trapped here with the worst father in existence. 

_Poor boy._

“Mama?” Ruya said again. 

Sola was drawn out of her thoughts. Once more, she forced a smile. 

“Just a little longer, sweetie,” she said. “Then we’ll get you cleaned up.” 

  
  


For the second time that day, Luke came back to pain; first there was nothing, and then his leg felt like it was on fire, like tiny knives were digging into his flesh. He shouted, his eyes flying open. But when the pain had faded and he was able to focus, this time there wasn’t a dragon standing over him. 

“Finally,” said Aphra, who was scowling at him. She’d just removed her hand from his wound. “I was starting to wonder if you were dead.” 

Despite everything, Luke laughed. 

“Nice to see you, too,” he croaked. “Didn’t know you were still alive.” 

“I could say the same about you.” Aphra put her bag on the ground and started rifling through it. “Here’s something that might interest you, though. Did you know the dragon took a chunk out of your left leg?” 

Luke raised an eyebrow. “I did know that, actually.” 

“Well, aren’t you something.” Aphra grabbed a few bottles and set them on the ground. “I wouldn’t look, if I were you.”

Luke looked. 

He almost threw up. 

There were two long gashes running down the side of his left calf; clearly, these were the impact that the two teeth had made. The larger of the two was wide, a ragged tear in his skin, still leaking blood into his boot, and he could see straight to the bone. 

But after he’d seen it, one question plagued him. 

“That thing is _huge,_ ” he said when he’d caught his breath again. “Why didn’t it just take the whole leg off? It could’ve.” 

“I think I can guess why,” Aphra said grimly. “She didn’t want to. She just wanted to get your attention.” 

Luke looked at the wound again. 

Impossible. 

“That,” he said. “ _That_ was just _getting my attention?_ ”

Aphra sighed. “Before this thing went after you, it was chasing us.” 

Luke frowned. “Who’s us?”

“The doctor,” Aphra said, “and me, and Sola Naberrie.” 

Ruya’s mother. Luke felt a bit better. Looking through the trees, he could see them talking quietly. It was a gentle image, a parent and child reuniting, and he was overwhelmed by anger.

Why couldn’t _he_ have that?

_Shut up. It’s never going to happen._

He couldn’t imagine Vader being _nice_ to anyone, let alone gentle. The man hardly knew how to not be terrifying. 

“So this thing was chasing you,” he said, and then realized. “So _that’s_ what I heard! I thought it was chasing us.” He laughed at the irony. “You were behind us the whole time, and I didn’t even know!” 

“No.” Aphra chuckled. “But anyway, I’ve _fought_ this thing. This was actually the first time I’ve seen her; the whole time she was chasing us, she was still camouflaged. It’s harder to see her at night.” Aphra met his eyes. “But here’s the thing. She’s not like the other dragons. She likes to play with her prey before she eats it, which means...she _wants_ to see the fear in your eyes.” 

Luke felt a chill go up his spine. 

“So all she did was...gently grab me,” he said. “This…” He looked down at the gashes in his leg. “This was just to get my attention. Make me afraid.” 

Aphra nodded grimly. “So when she wants to kill you...you’ll know. And if you can’t magically kill her in five seconds, that’ll be it.” 

_If you can’t magically kill her._ Luke almost had, or he’d thought he had; Vader hadn’t even been able to do it, though he had come much, _much_ closer. That dragon was incredibly resilient, but three times Vader had almost killed it. He’d come so close. 

And Luke hadn’t. But he’d been able to do something. 

Was the only way to kill it really with the Dark Side?

A searing pain in his leg jerked him out of his thoughts; he cried out. 

“Sorry,” Aphra said. She held a small bottle in her hand. “Gotta clean the wound before we get to the hospital.” 

Luke clenched his fists as she continued to pour more of the antiseptic into his wound. It felt _awful,_ worse than when he had been putting pressure on it, but he knew it would lessen the chance of an infection later. 

“Aphra, I…” He bit his tongue to hold back another shout. “I have to tell you, I don’t...I won’t be going to the hospital.” 

For one moment, Aphra stopped cleaning the wound to glare at him. “Are you crazy? I doubt you can even walk on that!”

“I’m not saying I don’t want to, I…” Luke looked off through the trees; Vader was standing there, staring right at him. Quickly, Luke tore his gaze away, his heart sinking. “Vader’s taking me off the planet once we get there; he said there’ll be transportation.” He looked down, fighting the sudden moisture in his eyes; he wasn’t going to cry, he was _not_ going to cry. But it was hard not to when he knew that he was about to lose all his freedom. “This is it.” 

There was one second of silence. 

“This is it?” Aphra echoed incredulously. “What do you mean?”

Luke glared at her. “If you can’t take this seriously--”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean, Skywalker. I assume Vader wants to use the emergency shuttles at the hospital?”

Luke nodded. 

“Well, those shuttles are kept in a holding garage. And, I don’t know if you remember, but…” Aphra grinned. “The power’s off in that facility. And if it connects to the hospital--”

Sudden hope grew in him. 

“The garage is locked,” he said, sitting up. He laughed wildly, realizing. “The garage is locked! As long as the power’s off, we can’t leave!”

He was still free. For the time being. 

“Yeah, just...” Aphra looked off to where Vader was standing, staring at them through the trees. “Just don’t expect him to be as happy as you are.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now they're safe? Kind of?? And not leaving Felucia yet! Luke is pretty happy, but Dad Vader is not going to be as happy.
> 
> Also, I managed not to end on a cliffhanger...FOR ONCE! Be proud of me, guys.


	23. Battle Of Wills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the battle with the hybrid dragon, Luke and Vader once again can't agree on anything; Aphra is a pain in the ass; Piett and Veers begin their attempt to turn the power back on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to my amazing beta, KaelinaLovesLomaris!

“Ow!” 

For the fifth time that day, whatever liquid Doctor Aphra was using to clean Luke’s leg made him jerk away with a shout; and for the fifth time, Aphra glared daggers at him. 

“Listen, I know it hurts, and I’m _sorry,_ ” she snapped, not sounding sorry at all, “but if you don’t want to get an infection before we reach the hospital--”

“Yeah, I know,” Luke sighed. The initial scalding pain was fading, replaced by the constant dull pain he was getting used to; but Aphra had already gotten another swab ready, and he knew he’d have to suck it up and take the scalding pain again. “I just wish you had some kind of painkiller to give me.” 

“Yeah, well, I don’t.” Aphra hovered over his leg with that swab. “Listen, I’m almost done, okay? Then I’ll put a bandage on it.” 

“All right.” Luke clenched his teeth and gripped the low-hanging branches on either side of him, bracing for the pain. “Go ahead, I’m ready.” 

Aphra nodded and lowered the swab. As she did so, Luke looked away to his right, not wanting to see what she was doing; and to his alarm, he noticed that Vader had apparently grown tired of waiting and was marching through the trees towards them. 

“Uh, Aphra--”

Pain. 

Completely unprepared this time, Luke barely kept himself from screaming, turning it at the last minute into a high-pitched yell. Vader was going to mock him for that, wasn’t he; he’d tell him he needed to control his pain or something. Luke knew that was why he’d waited so long to attack the dragon; of course, he must have wanted Luke to kill it with the Dark Side. 

Luke clenched his fists and turned back to look at Aphra. 

“What?” Aphra demanded. “Listen, I barely touched it this time. I’ve almost got all the dirt out of the--”

“It’s not that,” Luke said, jerking his head slightly to the side. 

Aphra followed his gaze; then a combination of panic and fury flitted across her face. 

“Are you _kidding me?_ ” she muttered. “Is he seriously going to _watch?_ ”

Oh, Force. Luke hoped not. But as Vader drew closer, Luke saw that that was exactly he was doing. When he was five meters away, Vader stopped, _leaned against a tree,_ and didn’t move. 

“Oh, damn it,” he said under his breath. “Aphra, just--just get it over with. As fast as you can.” 

Despite the current situation, Aphra still raised her eyebrows at him. “ _As fast as I can?_ Do you really want--”

“No, I don’t want an infection,” Luke said, still making an effort to speak as quietly as possible, even though Vader would probably hear him either way. “But the hospital is literally just across _that_ field.” 

_“That field_ is about seven hundred meters,” Aphra said, but she still dipped two more swabs in the antiseptic and stuck them into Luke’s leg, moving quickly to clean out any remaining debris from the wound. 

This time he _really_ screamed, and the branch he was gripping with his right hand broke off. For one second, he closed his eyes against the pain. 

When he opened them, there was a shadow over him. 

Taking deep breaths to shake off the innate feeling of danger at that-- _he won’t kill you, you at least know that, no danger until you’re off Felucia_ \--Luke looked up. 

“What?” he said. He’d have to be careful with his words; Aphra was right there.

“ _What,_ ” Vader echoed sarcastically. “Your leg is badly wounded, this woman who barely qualifies as a doctor is cleaning it--”

“Okay, that hurts,” Aphra piped up. 

“ _Quiet.”_ Vader rounded on her savagely. “Be grateful that for the time being I have not given you a _worse_ fate than leaving you to die in space.” 

At that, Aphra went white. Luke clenched his fists. Vader could bluster and insult Luke all he wanted, but Aphra was the only friend Luke had on this sorry excuse of a planet, and it was clear that being thrown out of the airlock was the worst thing that had ever happened to the archaeologist. 

“Hey,” Luke snapped. “Leave her alone, she doesn’t even matter to you.” 

“That is correct,” Vader said coldly. “And I am not finished with _you either,_ young one. You are allowing _her_ to clean your wound, she is not nearly done, you are clearly in pain, as is evidenced by your shouting--”

“Yeah, that’s what antiseptic does,” Luke muttered, then yelped as another swab ran through the wound. 

Vader tilted his helmet as if to say, _See?_

But then Aphra straightened up and announced, “Done!”

Once again, Vader rounded on her. “It does not appear so. The wound is worse than I originally believed it to be; did you even stop the bleeding?”

“Yeah, as much as I _could,_ but the priority was getting it clean, and now I’m putting bandages on it, genius.” Aphra turned back to her bag and started digging through it. “Why the hell do you care so much anyway? You both hate each other’s guts.”

 _Well, one of us does,_ thought Luke sourly, flexing his right hand. 

As for Vader’s side of things, the Force _roiled._

“Do not _assume_ to know _anything,_ ” he snapped. “The wound may provide an opportunity for Skywalker to learn to control his pain with the Force--”

Luke hated it when he was right about Vader. 

Still, it hurt all the same...especially with the gentle memory of Ruya and her mother fresh in his mind. 

“But that does not mean I do not want it taken care of. There are dragons nearby, and we may need Skywalker’s skills to assist, untrained as he is. Things will go worse if he is injured.” 

“Okay. Sure.” Aphra had the bandages now, and she was methodically wiping them down. Luke was impressed. For a woman who flew by the seat of pants, she really was very thorough about treating wounds. “But, hey, I really thought he was your enemy. Blew up the Death Star, after all.”

That was a known fact by all parties involved, but Luke could already tell that the more Aphra said, the worse things would get. He shook his head at her. 

But Aphra went on, even as she continued to clean the bandages. “Oh, don’t be insulted...either of you. It’s just true. I’m just confused, that’s all; don’t mind me.” Having finished with the bandages, she laid one out. “Honestly, I’m surprised he’s still alive, I expected you to try to kill him a long time ago.”

The temperature _dropped._

Icicles dug into his mind, freezing _everything_ around him, and Luke suddenly remembered that despite all the psychological torture that Vader wanted for him, the one thing that he did _not_ want, for whatever selfish reason, was for Luke to be dead. 

Something was building, something was about to explode--

And Aphra was right there. 

And Vader had no qualms about killing _her._

The pressure kept on building, in the Force, in Luke’s head, all around them--

Luke racked his brain. What was the one thing he could do? Was there anything he could say, to stop Vader? Was--

He shuddered. There was one thing. 

But he had _never_ said it on purpose. Just twice, by accident. Saying it on purpose would be a _totally_ different thing, a betrayal of everything he believed. 

Maybe Vader would relent. Maybe, because Luke was injured after all--

Leather creaked as Vader’s hands clenched into fists. 

Explosion. 

“You _DARE_ ,” Vader roared, taking a lunging step toward Aphra and raising one of his clenched fists in the air at the same time. Aphra gasped and stumbled away, clutching at her throat with her hands, but it would do nothing, of _course_ it would do nothing--

Horror shot through Luke. He had to do something. 

Listening to the awful sounds of Aphra gasping for breath, Luke made his decision. He’d speak to the man, all right...but he wouldn’t say _it._

Still Aphra continued choking, tiny gurgling noises escaping her throat--

 _Stop!_ Luke all but shouted across their bond. 

The effect was immediate. Aphra stopped gasping and choking; and yet, Vader did not lower his arm. 

_Do not meddle in affairs that do not concern you,_ Vader told him coldly. 

_It_ does _concern me,_ Luke shot back, _because she’s my friend, and she made an honest mistake, and I’m not going to let you kill her over that._

Vader said nothing back; instead, the oppressive tendrils of his Force presence retracted from Aphra and shot toward Luke instead. They didn’t attack; they did nothing. They simply hovered there, cold, threatening...expectant. 

Luke shivered. He knew what Vader wanted him to add; and he wouldn’t have said it, except that Aphra still floated just off the ground, terror in her eyes. 

_Father,_ he added, grudgingly. It felt like it had been dragged out of him. 

The tendrils retracted altogether, and Aphra dropped to her knees. 

As she knelt there on the ground, completely unaware of the battle of wills that had saved her life, one single emotion was projected at Luke’s mind. 

Satisfaction. 

He shuddered. Why couldn’t Vader just leave, at least until his wound was bandaged? Why did he have to make _everything worse?_

_But he saved my life…_

No. It did not _matter_ that he had saved Luke’s life, if he was going to insist on _bullying_ Luke into accepting their relationship, among other things. 

_That is_ not _going to happen,_ he thought fiercely. _My life is_ not _going to be consumed with giving you what you want just so no one else dies for me._

“Damn,” Aphra said, dragging herself upright. “Damn it, you didn’t have to do _that._ I was genuinely curious. I just don’t know anything about--”

“Aphra,” Luke said sharply. 

“Yeah, okay, sorry.” Aphra dug out another bottle from her bag, dipped another swab into it, and started rubbing it on the bandage. “This is just gauze.”

“I’m not worried,” Luke said, still very aware that Vader was standing there. 

“That wound had better be in good condition,” Vader said. “Following this, I am taking him _off_ of this terrible planet.” 

Vader turned and began to walk away. 

Oh, _shit._

Aphra’s gaze shot up toward Luke. 

Luke deflated. The idea of telling Vader about the hospital would have been bad _before,_ but clearly, everything that had happened in the last hour had soured his mood beyond belief. 

“You haven’t told him,” Aphra whispered. 

“No, how could I?” Luke whispered back. 

Vader stopped. The temperature once more began to drop, but not as quickly. Just with the subtle, ominous foreboding of an impending volcanic explosion. That was all. 

Luke motioned for Aphra to be quiet. Nodding quickly, Aphra took the bandage and began wrapping it around Luke’s wound; Luke tried not to wince, just in case…

...Vader turned around. 

Luke pretended not to notice him. It wasn’t hard, because the feeling of _anything_ touching that wound made him want to shout again. But in a few seconds, the first bandage was wrapped across the upper part of the wound, and he already felt better. 

“Okay, that one’s done,” Aphra said, in a light, happy tone that Luke was sure she had never used before in her life.

“Skywalker,” Vader said. 

Luke had heard him speak...well, not speak. _Speaking_ seemed too casual for what Darth Vader did when he opened his mouth; _uttering words_ was more accurate. Anyway, Luke had heard him utter words many more times in the last two days than ever before; but this rumbling tone he used now was lower than hell, quieter than death, and absolutely terrifying. 

Slowly, reluctantly, Luke raised his eyes. 

Whistling to herself, Aphra continued applying bandages. 

Vader took a step closer. “Tell. Me. _What._ ”

It was not a question. It was a demand. 

Luke hardly even noticed the second bandage being wrapped around his leg. 

“Well…um…” Luke swallowed. A drop of sweat ran down his back. “There’s a, there’s a slight...problem…” 

“Yes?” The dark tone grew even darker. 

“Well, I’m done,” Aphra announced cheerfully. “I’ll just clean this up and leave you two to--”

“You will _stay here,_ ” Vader snarled at her. Halfway up, Aphra immediately sat back down. “Somehow, I doubt that you are completely ignorant of _this_ as well.”

Aphra motioned at Luke. 

_Fine,_ he thought. He wasn’t going to complain, though. He knew very well that if _Aphra_ told Vader he couldn’t leave immediately with the “Emperor’s prize,” she would be in danger of death. 

“Well, uh…” Luke gave up. It was so much worse sitting on the ground having to look up at Vader; it made him feel even smaller. Not that he was very tall anyway, but anything helped. “Aphra, help me up.” 

“No,” Vader snapped. “You keep on _stalling,_ and anyway you are _injured._ What could be so difficult to tell me?”

“Well...okay.” Luke sighed. “But you’re not going to be happy.” 

  
  
  


“ _WHAT?_ ” 

Vader was not happy. 

The explosion of anger had been both better and worse than Luke had predicted. Better because, fortunately, Aphra wasn’t anywhere near dead, and Vader had not threatened him with anything, or killed anyone else in the vicinity. 

But worse because...well...a gigantic tree two inches to Luke’s left, probably three hundred feet tall and several meters around, was shaking. Violently. 

Not to mention that the entire strength of his fury in the Force was focused on Luke’s mind. That did not make him feel better. No, on top of his leg wound, he now felt like his head was ready to split open. 

“The…” Luke swallowed. Maybe he was going to be free, but if Vader was this angry, he might still find a way to get Luke off the planet, transportation be damned. “The underground facility is...it’s connected to the hospital, remember? Someone told us that--”

“I recall,” Vader growled. 

“And, uh, even if you...blew it open with the Force, or--or something,” Luke stammered, trying desperately to keep his voice calm, “because that’s something you would do, the...the shuttles can only be opened with...a charged key. All of those, well...the battery would be dead by now. So until someone gets the power back on, uh...we can’t leave.” 

Vader said nothing; he was completely silent, but Luke knew he was _beyond_ furious. He could feel it--in the Force, Vader was a _torrent_ of fury. The giant tree that had been trembling shook, more furiously than ever; leaves blew and dirt left the ground. 

And then, the Sith Lord clenched his fists. 

Desperately, Luke looked up at Vader. 

_Please don’t kill Aphra,_ Luke thought at him, _please don’t kill Aphra, she doesn’t have anything to do with it..._

Slowly, Vader’s fists relaxed. 

And with a crash, the tree _fell over._

The sound was deafening; and moments afterward, it sent tremors through the earth. Luke gaped at it. A three hundred foot tree, ancient, most likely it had been rooted there for thousands of years, before the first humans arrived on Felucia; and just like that, it lay on the forest floor. 

Luke glanced at Aphra. 

With a quick nod, she got up, picked up her bag, and walked away. 

Then Luke was left alone with his...with Darth Vader. 

For several very long seconds, Vader said nothing at all. The silence was terrible. Luke could feel his rage mounting with every passing moment--rage that he could not have Luke, rage that he could not begin turning Luke to the Dark Side, rage that went beyond anything Luke had expected even out of him. He didn’t understand it, didn’t understand where it came from; it wasn’t as if Vader was on some kind of time limit, after all. But still, it was terrifying. 

“Can you stand?” Vader asked at last. 

Luke could hear no anger in his voice. But he knew it was there, simmering just under the surface. 

“I think so,” he said. 

“Not ‘I think,’” Vader snapped. “Either you can, or you cannot.”

 _He’s in a_ really _bad mood,_ Luke realized, _if he’s picking on things like that._

But he didn’t say what he was thinking; he knew how _that_ would go over. Instead, he set his jaw. 

“I can,” he said. 

But now that he’d said it, he needed to back himself up. He hadn’t stood on the leg yet; hadn’t attempted it. He had no idea if he could stand or not, but he had one good leg--and besides, he told himself, it was basically just a few scrapes. Deep scrapes, but scrapes all the same. Why should that keep him from standing?

Well. Vader was there, watching him. That alone was enough to mess with his concentration. 

But he’d have to do it. He couldn’t stand the idea of Vader mocking him for not being able to stand--mocking, or _worse,_ with this foul mood he was in. Luke could already feel the darkness constricting around him again. He had to do it. 

_Here goes nothing._ He took a deep breath, gripped the tree to brace himself, and stood. 

Immediately, the second he put weight on it, searing pain _stabbed_ through his leg. Luke cried out; and immediately the dark tendrils moved in closer, Vader _himself_ moved in closer--he had to get a handle on the pain. Clenching his teeth, Luke set all his weight on his other leg, leaned against the tree, and...better. Not by much, not in a way that took much of the pain away from him, but it was better. 

The tendrils retracted. 

“See?” Luke panted, gasping for breath. “I...I told you.” 

Vader said nothing. He simply stood there. 

_You could at least be proud of me for doing what you wanted me to do to begin with,_ Luke thought, but he made every effort to shield _that_ thought.

“Now…” He trailed off weakly, sensing Vader’s anger jump up again the moment he spoke; but the others were coming towards them. He had to end the conversation before anyone overheard. “Now, we can, uh, head for the hospital.” 

Still Vader said nothing; maybe he wasn’t going to for a while, which was perfectly fine with Luke. Limping, putting all his energy into the simple act of walking, Luke moved forward--but before he’d taken two steps, Vader had grabbed his arm, forcing him back. 

“I understand that you had nothing to do with it,” Vader said icily. “But believe me, if you take this opportunity to run, if you attempt to flee at all…” Gripping Luke’s arm, he leaned closer; Luke tried to pull away, but any movement backward sent shooting pains up his leg. “There will be _consequences._ ”

Luke didn’t want to, but he found himself looking straight into the lenses of Vader’s mask; and then, he realized to his horror, there _were_ actual eyes there, and from what he could see, they were _yellow._

_Why did he have to be so damn terrifying?_

_Why couldn’t Luke have a_ normal _father?_

The grip on his arm tightened further, to the point of pain; Luke couldn’t have escaped even if his leg wasn’t wounded. “Do you understand?”

Somehow, Luke was able to speak. 

“Yes,” he said quietly. 

Abruptly, Vader released him, so suddenly that Luke stumbled into the tree. Then the other four had arrived: Aphra, Doctor Pandaki, Ruya, and...Ruya’s mother. Upon seeing her, Luke got a peculiar feeling, the same feeling that he’d gotten upon meeting Ruya--the feeling that he’d met her, somewhere before. 

Luke shook it off. It was absurd. 

But there was an odd look on Sola’s face, like she’d seen him before as well. 

“Uh...hello,” he said at last, feeling somewhat uncomfortable, and also trying not to look like he was in immense pain. 

“Pardon me,” Ruya’s mother said with a laugh. “I don’t know what came over me, I just…it’s been a long day.” She held out her hand. “I’m Sola Naberrie.” 

Luke hesitated a moment before remembering that Ruya had spoken excitedly about the Rebels. If she was a child, she probably had her parents’ political opinions; so, most likely, the Naberries were Rebel sympathizers. 

“Luke Skywalker,” he said, shaking her hand. 

Sola smiled. “Thank you. For what you’ve done for the Rebellion...and, for saving my daughter.” She grabbed Ruya’s hand, and Luke noticed, to his amusement, that Ruya looked slightly annoyed at that. So he wasn’t the only one. “I was so worried, but if I’d known she was with you…”

“Don’t mention it,” Luke said quickly. “She’s been pretty brave. She even shot the dragon a few times, and she was hardly ever scared.” He grinned down at Ruya. “If you were Force Sensitive, I think you’d be worthy of the Jedi.” 

At _that,_ Vader’s fury flared once again--Luke was getting really, really sick of his black moods--but he didn’t care, because Ruya beamed up at him. 

“Oh, no,” Sola said suddenly, and Luke noticed she was looking down...at his leg. “That looks worse than I thought it’d be. How badly did that thing injure you?”

“Not too badly,” Luke said, all too aware of Vader standing about _four meters_ away. “Aphra said the dragon wasn’t attacking to kill; just gave me a couple gashes. They were bleeding pretty freely, though, so she cleaned up the wound and wrapped it up.” Speaking just a little louder for Vader’s sake, he added, “She really is fantastic with that kind of thing.” 

“Well, either way, we need to get you to the hospital.” Sola glanced Vader’s way, almost innocently. “I hope you won’t need him for anything within the next few hours?” 

“Not _yet,_ ” Vader said ominously. 

“Wonderful.” Sola turned to Aphra. “How would you suggest we move him?”

“Hmm.” Aphra looked Luke up and down. “You’re standing all right? How’s it feel?”

“Like hell,” Luke said. “But I can walk.” 

“You can _limp slowly,_ ” Vader said. “That is not the same thing.” 

Luke closed his eyes. He really did _not_ need Vader getting involved with this, on top of everything else. 

“I can walk,” he said firmly. 

Luke had barely finished speaking before Vader’s presence surrounded his mind. Stubbornly, he tried to ignore it, but it was about as easy to ignore as a bantha in a sparkling white ballroom. 

_If you would use the Dark Side, we would not be having this conversation. Then you could--_

_I’m not using the Dark Side,_ Luke shot back, then raised his shields completely.

“It would be preferable if we had a stretcher,” Aphra said. “I mean...Luke, I suppose you _could_ walk all the way there, but what if the dragons attacked again? I do not want you to ruin everything I _just did._ ” 

“Neither do I,” Luke said wryly. “Then what are you suggesting? I doubt you can carry me all the way to the hospital.”

“No,” came Vader’s voice from behind him, and Luke had a sudden, horrifying premonition of what he was going to say. “But I can.” 

Luke whirled on him, and almost fell over. “You are _not--_ ”

“It is not my preferred option either,” Vader snapped, and Luke remembered that despite being so eager to prove their connection, Vader simultaneously despised any kind of sentimentality. “But you will only be able to walk very slowly, you insist on not using the Dark Side, and there are dragons all across this jungle.” 

How could Luke explain it, with four other people there? He was absolutely certain that if Vader did carry him--which, for one thing, was the strangest thing he’d ever heard of--it would not be in a way that represented any kind of fatherly gentleness at all. But beyond that, if Vader won this particular battle of wills, he’d lord it over Luke later, that he was too weak after all, that since he refused to use the Dark Side he was weaker and had to be carried by a Sith. 

Besides, technically, there was nothing stopping Vader from grabbing Luke, leaving, and walking until he found transportation off of Felucia. 

“I…” He swallowed. “I can walk.”

“Oh, can you?” Vader rumbled darkly, and it sounded like a _threat._

But immediately, both Sola and Aphra seemed to change opinions at once; moving quickly, they stepped on either side of Luke, Sola on his right and Aphra on his left, and put Luke’s arms around their shoulders. 

“He can walk,” they said together. 

Luke could tell that Vader _wanted_ to say something; that Luke was too weak, or that he would not be denied, but he didn’t. Instead, what Luke got was something of a _harrumph_ in the Force. 

“Very well,” he said. “But we cannot wait another moment. The dragons will have heard us; they will come.” 

_Yeah, because you toppled a tree with the Force,_ Luke thought. But he knew what would happen if he said _that_ out loud. 

  
  


Veers would never have told Piett, but he was terrified. 

Besides the light he carried, it was utterly dark as he walked down the corridor to the turbolift. Fortunately, the lift still worked; that seemed to operate independently of the power, for which he was grateful. But as the lift descended, Veers couldn’t help but think about the dragons; whether they were watching him, following him, if they would be waiting for him when he arrived…

If there was one in the lift right now…

Just in case, he shone his light around; nothing, as he’d suspected. But that didn’t take away his fear. 

“Max,” said a voice suddenly, and Veers jumped. _Firmus,_ he reminded himself, _of course, it’s Firmus. Calm down._ “Max, talk to me.”

The lift stopped. Veers drew out his comlink. 

“I’ve just arrived at the lower levels,” he said quietly, shining his light around in all directions. He didn’t forget to look up. That was the direction most people forgot about, and it was the direction an attack was likely to come from. “So far, there’s no sign of anything.” 

“Good.” Piett’s voice was clipped, but Veers knew his friend was anxious for him. “Remember what Vinh said?”

“Walk straight, don’t go into any other rooms until I reach the door labeled ‘Power,’” Veers said, keeping his voice barely above a whisper. “Right. I’ll keep you posted.” 

“Excellent.” 

Veers returned the comlink to his pocket and, as the light remained steady in his left hand, pulled out his blaster with his right. Then he took a step forward; the sound echoed. 

_Silent,_ he told himself. _You must be silent._

He took another step, setting his heel on the ground first, followed by the rest of his foot. This time the echo was much quieter, though it did nothing to relieve Veers’ unease. He continued in this way across the floor, stepping slowly and quietly, and never ceasing to look for creatures. If one of them caught him…

_No. You are not allowed to think of it._

Another step--another breath. Veers forced himself to breathe, deeply and slowly. 

_You are a man of the Empire. You will succeed. There is no other option._

There was no other option...because otherwise, they would not be able to contact Lord Vader. This was the first time in his entire career that the Supreme Commander had ever been in serious trouble, and in such a situation, his duty was to help him. 

Well. There was also the fact that without Vader, the Empire stood a lesser chance of defeating the Rebellion. And Veers had his own... _personal..._ reasons for wanting the Rebellion defeated. 

They had to find Lord Vader. And to do that, Veers had to avoid being eaten long enough to get the power back on. 

It must have only been a hundred paces, only four minutes at the most, but it felt like half an hour. Veers walked in the dark alone, his footsteps as quiet as they could have possibly been, but sounding incredibly loud to him; and every second was another look up at the dripping ceiling, another chill up his spine, another glance over his shoulder. 

But at last he saw it: letters engraved on a door. Shining the light, and there it was: POWER. 

For a moment, he put the blaster away and took out his comlink. 

“Firmus,” he said, “Vinh said we’d have to shoot the lock, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” came the response, almost before he’d finished speaking. Veers could imagine that Piett had the comlink right next to his mouth, waiting every second for him to speak. “You’ll have to shoot it.” 

“All right. Wait just a moment.” Veers put the comlink away, drew his blaster, and aimed it at the keypad next to the door. 

_Shit,_ he realized. _This is going to be really bloody loud._

Veers looked over his shoulder and around, shining the light up, before facing the door once more. He counted internally, one...two…

He fired. 

Something _pinged,_ and the door gave. Putting the blaster away, Veers walked forward and pushed on the door. 

It opened. 

Now he faced another daunting question: there were no dragons near him currently, but would they be inside this room? There was only one way to find out. Veers walked slowly inside, shining his light everywhere, into every nook and cranny, up and down and sideways, at least five times. 

Nothing. 

Well, no monsters, at least. Lowering the light, Veers took the time to look around the room. It was small, just as Vinh had told them; to his right was a keyboard resting in front of a holopad that undoubtedly would turn into a holoscreen once he reset the first part of the power. The database system. In front of him was a wall full of levers and buttons. 

Veers swallowed. This was the real challenge. 

Slowly, quietly, he shut the door behind him--as far as it _would_ shut, having been blasted open--and pulled out his comlink. 

“I’m in,” he said quietly. 

  
  


Walking had been a catastrophically bad mistake. 

The first few steps weren’t actually terrible. With Sola and Aphra on either side of him, helping him to limp to the edge of the jungle, at first he could put all his weight on his other leg and rely on the two women to help him walk. Luke barely knew Sola at all, and Aphra was even grumpier than Leia, but they seemed to have both come to the decision that they felt bad for Luke being stuck with Vader, and he was nothing but grateful. A little patronized, sure, but absolutely grateful. 

But as soon as they made it onto the empty plain standing between the jungle and the hospital, the sunlight and the heat beat down on them and Luke suddenly remembered that it was morning on a jungle planet.

 _Just like Tatooine,_ he told himself, _it’s only like Tatooine…_

Except it _wasn’t,_ because where that had been dry heat, this was hot and sticky and _wet,_ and also, on Tatooine, he had never had to walk with a _bite to the leg from a freaking hybrid krayt dragon._

But he could feel Vader in his shadow the whole time, just watching, surely having to walk much slower than he wanted to, so he pretended he was fine. 

“Well, Skywalker,” said a voice next to him. At the use of his surname, Luke jumped; but it was only Pandaki. The doctor’s arm looked much better than the last time he’d seen it, and he was smiling. “We’re a pair, aren’t we?”

“We sure are,” Luke said with a grin. “You escaped that thing before we did, huh?”

“Yes,” Pandaki said, his smile fading slightly. “And...and now that I see you, and the girl, wounded...I must apologize. I’m sure I’ve said this already, but if I hadn’t--” 

“Stop,” Luke told him. Enough guilt went through his mind on an almost daily basis; it wouldn’t be any good for the doctor. “You didn’t think this would happen, and you’ve already apologized.” Truth be told, he really did not like that people had been bringing dragons back from the dead, but there was nothing they could do about it now. He smiled. “It’s all water under the bridge. You’re with us now, and that’s all that matters.” 

A genuine smile crossed Pandaki’s face, and Luke instantly knew it had been worth it; he truly liked the doctor, anyway. Besides, not all the dragons were carnivores; Luke had barely seen them, but he remembered the beautiful Thunder krayts, the gentle giants he and Aphra had seen when they first entered the facility. 

“I’m hungry,” Ruya said from Sola’s side. It was the tenth time she’d said it in the last fifteen minutes. 

Sola smiled down at her. “Hi, hungry, I'm--”

“Uggh, don’t say ‘I’m Mom,’” Ruya groaned. “You do that _all the time,_ it’s the _worst._ ”

“Then you’ll just have to not talk about how you’re hungry,” Sola said with a laugh. “The hospital’s…” She looked up, clearly expecting it to be right in front of them, and her face fell slightly. It was still about six hundred meters away. “It’s close, it’s right there.” 

“Well, I’m still hungry,” Ruya said, almost rebelliously. 

A sudden wave of longing hit Luke; it was from _Vader,_ he realized. It wasn’t large, or powerful in any way, but it was there. Did that mean...Vader had the same jealousy that Luke had felt, watching the mother and daughter embrace? 

He wanted that for them? 

But then, why hadn’t he _done anything about it?_ Luke had made it perfectly clear to him--or, at least, he’d tried, before he was given another lecture about the dangers of being sentimental--that he wanted a normal father. And Vader had said something along the lines of, _That is not possible, now the conversation is over because we need to keep from dying in the next five minutes._

How dare he feel _jealous,_ when he had the power to do something about it?

Sudden pain stabbed up Luke’s leg, and he stumbled; Sola and Aphra stopped with him. 

“What is it?” Sola asked. 

Luke looked down. It was just a root, and he’d tripped over it. 

“Just a stupid root.” He shook his head. “Come on.” 

Sola looked concerned, but Aphra grinned as they resumed their slow walk to the hospital. 

“That’s my guy,” she said. “Sola, you’ve got nothing to worry about. He blew up the Death Star with that attitude.” 

Luke sighed. “Aphra, I know everyone here knows that, but can we _stop_ flaunting that, please?”

In response, Aphra shot him a wolfish grin. 

“ _Aphra,_ ” he said again, “this is _not funny_ \--”

“You are _no_ fun,” Aphra groaned. “It’s called a _joke._ Why would I tell anyone else? I’ve been on the run from Mr. Wheezy Bot back there for at least a year now, I get it.” 

Anxiously, Luke looked over his shoulder. But at the present moment, “Mr. Wheezy Bot” appeared extremely distracted. He didn’t even seem to have heard it, much to Luke’s relief. 

They continued in silence, and the entire time Luke’s leg only continued to get worse. Now that he wasn’t talking to anyone--mostly for the purpose of saving his strength--he could feel the muscle trembling from overuse. He shouldn’t have walked on it, that could not be good for him in the long run; and on top of that, his ribs and his twisted ankle--on the same leg, fortunately--were starting to ache once again, more so than before. Gradually, he could feel them slowing down for his sake, but there was nothing he could do about it. 

And simultaneously, as Luke’s pain grew, so did Vader’s muted fury in the Force; but he doubted it was because of his leg wound. 

No, he knew it was because Vader wanted to get them both off Felucia. 

_Well, suck it up, old man,_ Luke thought, for once not caring if Vader heard his thoughts. _Not even you can magically turn the power back on, even though I’m sure you’d like to try._

Seemingly out of nowhere, Vader’s anger _surged._

“That is _enough,_ ” the Dark Lord snarled behind them; Luke stopped, and even that small movement pulled at his wound like nothing else. 

Slowly, helped by Aphra and Sola, he turned around to see Vader, some paces behind them, _glaring_ at him. He couldn’t see through the mask, of course, but he knew it all the same; and he wondered if it had been that last thought of his. Had that done it? Should he have shielded that after all?

“We are going too slowly,” Vader went on, and Luke was marginally relieved. “You may all have forgotten that we are still in danger from _resurrected dragons,_ thanks to that _wretched_ excuse of a scientist,” he added, and Pandaki visibly flinched back, “and as I have been monitoring the Force over the last hour, I have just discovered that one of them is coming back toward us!”

Suddenly, Luke became aware of a sense of danger; the Force was telling him, the Force _had been_ telling him for the last twenty minutes, and he’d _completely_ missed it. What kind of Jedi was he? Ruya was right there, he was supposed to be protecting her--

Even as these thoughts flew through his mind, he felt the entirety of Vader’s displeasure directed at him. 

Luke’s heart sank. He didn’t need more insults on top of everything else. 

“I can walk faster,” he said. “I know, it’s my fault--”

“Only in part,” Vader said, his helmet once more pointed toward Pandaki; Luke would have to make sure that the doctor was protected, he realized, if he didn’t want another death on his conscience. 

Which he didn’t. 

“But we can do nothing about it. We must simply leave, as fast as possible, because--”

_Thud._

“Because _a dragon_ _is coming,_ ” Vader finished, lunging forward. Luke matched his steps backward; the pain in his leg _burned,_ and Aphra caught him just in time. 

“I can _do it,_ ” he snapped; he was _really tired_ of being patronized and pitied by everyone--especially Vader--even though he knew him being wounded meant that Ruya’s life had been saved. “Just leave me alone, will you?”

_Thud._

It was in the distance, but it was there all the same. 

Anger, and frustration, and irritation, and fury, and every negative emotion there had ever been poured into the Force. Sola, wisely, stepped back. Vader marched the rest of the distance toward them, threw Aphra aside like she weighed nothing, and grabbed Luke’s arm roughly. 

“You are coming with me,” he demanded. 

_Coming with...?_ But the way that was phrased...Luke froze. He didn’t--he wasn’t going to--he didn’t mean--

“No,” Luke said, even as his leg buckled. “No, I’m--”

While he was still speaking, Vader reached down. A grip like iron seized around his waist, his feet left the ground, the pain in his ribs flared as his abdomen collided with something hard, the world tilted and _flipped,_ and--

And he was being moved, at a greater speed than he’d thought possible. 

Luke was struck simultaneously by humiliation, and fury, and horror. Vader, he realized, had really just _thrown him over his shoulder_ and marched off towards...

Not towards the hospital. 

Luke’s sense of direction had been suddenly, royally screwed up, but even as his head spun dizzily, he knew for certain that they were not headed the same way they had been going. 

_He’s leaving,_ said a voice in his head. _He’s had enough, and he’s taking you off world, he’s taking you to his Star Destroyer--_

“Hey!” he shouted, pushing against the hold on his legs and trying in vain to throw himself forward, even though _that’s a long way to the ground, holy shit he’s tall_. Vader didn’t budge. “HEY! What are you--there’s no-- _stop it!_ ” 

“Where are you taking him?” came an angry, female voice behind him--Sola. Thank the Force for Sola. “You might be a Lord of the Sith, but I am not letting you take him off--”

“I am not taking him off Felucia, you foolish woman,” Vader snapped. “There is no viable transportation for miles, and Commander Skywalker’s wound must be treated. Also, we cannot get into the hospital through the main doors; with the power, they will have been locked. There is another way, through the employees’ door. I will be able to open it with the Force. That is where we are going.” 

Not off Felucia. _Not off Felucia._ Luke forced himself to take a deep breath; it wasn’t the worst. But that did not make his situation any better. Vader was still carrying him off like--like a _prisoner,_ and beyond the hot embarrassment his current position gave him, beyond the fury, that terrified him. It was so easy, he realized now, _so easy_ for Vader to make him do anything; Luke’s power in the Force was nothing compared to Vader’s, and if there _were_ any transportation, he knew that they would be headed off to the _Executor._

“That is not going to help his leg,” Aphra said. 

Vader ignored her completely. Luke wondered if he was focusing on trying not to kill her. 

_I can walk,_ he thought stubbornly, _hating_ the feeling of utter powerlessness this was giving him. _Just let me down, I can walk, I’m strong--_

 _You have proven that you are not,_ came the reply. _And until you allow me to teach you how to control your pain, my_ son, _you will have to allow me to take control of certain situations._

 _No, I won’t,_ Luke thought back at him. 

They spun round a corner, and Luke’s ribs speared pain at him; beyond the constant ache in his head, this current position, with his chest pressed firmly against Vader’s armor, was making his ribs worse. Gathering up all his strength in the Force, he _pushed_ it against Vader--and, in return, was met by an iron wall. 

“Stop struggling,” Vader said, aloud. “You will only make things worse for yourself.” 

The feeling of helplessness grew stronger. Luke wanted to punch the man, throw the Force at him, do whatever was in his power to do until he was let go; but he knew it wouldn’t happen. Vader was too determined to show him how weak he apparently was without the Dark Side; and Luke was beginning to realize how much, in the last few days, Vader had been _restraining_ himself. He was a Sith Lord. He was used to having his way constantly, used to people cowering before his every whim; and Luke’s resistance must be torturous to him. For once, he hadn’t gotten everything he wanted, and he was starting to be angry about that. 

_Well,_ Luke thought, _I’m starting to be angry about a lot of things too._

  
  


The thing in the jungle, the hybrid, the predator of all predators, watched. And waited. And _seethed._

That was the creature; she had realized it upon tracking it. This was the one who she had nearly caught twice, near her own lair; who she had nearly caught, and who had escaped at the last moment. She had thought she would have it, had warned with a bite; but not only had her prey had allies, her prey had _fought back._ It had been strong. It had some sort of ability, something that was able to sense her before she attacked, and fight her; and beyond that, it had determination she had never seen before. That wound, which should have terrified it into submission, had not nearly stopped it. 

And it made her angry. 

The other one--not the hatchling, but the warrior--the other one had been strong too. Stronger than her prey. But that warrior had almost no flesh; she had known it immediately. The warrior would not make good meat. It was not worth it, and it had been too confident in fighting her.

But the other one, the smaller one, the one that was more elusive than it should be...she had been given only a taste, and then it had fought her. Then it had attacked, had almost _killed_ her before stopping short of it. For what reason, she did not know. 

But she had been given a challenge. This smaller warrior would be a challenge to kill, a challenge she had not faced since taking her first breath. 

And she would relish every minute of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sort of a filler chapter again, but...after the last one, I thought I'd give you guys a break from the action. A tiny break. But a break nonetheless. :D  
> Let me know what you think in the comments!


	24. The Web Of Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Vader continue to disagree on just about anything; the Naberrie family is reunited; Luke comes up with a plan; the situation gets worse for several people, and possibly better for others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to my wonderful beta, KaelinaLovesLomaris!

“ _I’m in._ ”

So official. Piett took a deep breath. 

“All right,” he said. “It’s time to reboot the system.” 

“Don’t touch the database system immediately, right?” came Veers’ wry remark. “Or everything blows up?”

“Something like that, don’t joke about it.” Piett thought back to Vinh’s instructions. “You’ll...you’ll press a button on the wall in front of you.” 

“That’s what I thought.” There was a brief silence; Veers must have been walking towards the wall. Piett hated having to sit here, imagining what everything looked like, instead of seeing it for himself. If a creature decided to attack Veers, he might never know about it until the moment it happened. “Five buttons right in front of me--I push the last one, correct? The red one?”

That sounded right, though Piett didn’t remember for certain. “Yes.” 

“All right, thanks.” 

_The middle one...green. You must push that._

“No!” Piett shouted at the last minute. 

“No?” Veers’ voice was level, but Piett knew his friend had to be terrified. 

“The middle one,” Piett said. “Green.” 

There was a muted sound; Piett wondered if Veers had put his head in his hand. “Of course. I remember now; I’m such an idiot.” 

“Push it,” Piett said. 

“All right.” Silence; Piett waited, but no earth-shaking explosion followed. 

“That was the right one,” Piett said, “but isn’t there--”

“A lever,” Veers finished for him. “Below the buttons, the--the far left?”

“That sounds right,” Piett said, though he didn’t remember. At the very least, it didn’t sound _wrong._

There was a brief grinding, creaking sound on the other end; that, Piett figured, was the sound of the lever being pulled down. 

_Down, up, down._

There had been a second set of directions. 

“Remember, you have to push up next,” he said quickly, “and then--”

“And then pull again. I know.” 

Piett took a deep breath. Again he wished he were down there with Veers. 

There was another creak, and then another. For a moment, everything was silent; and then, all around him, lights flashed briefly, five times exactly. 

Then the control room went dark again. 

“It did something up here,” Piett said. “The system’s primed for rebooting.” 

“I can see that,” Veers said after a moment’s pause. “The holoscreen just lit up down here.” 

Suddenly there was a noise on the other end. Alarm shot through Piett. 

“Max?” he demanded. “Max, what’s that?”

“Something…” Veers faltered. “It’s not in the room.” 

“Not yet, you mean.” Piett forced himself not to panic, to focus on the task ahead. “Get that bloody system rebooted, so the screens up here will come on and I can see if there’s a dragon down there with you.” 

“All right.” Veers’ voice shook for only a moment. “The system’s speaking to me now. It’ll just be a moment.” 

In the distance, the sound echoed again. 

  
  
  


The walk to the hospital was only seven minutes long, but it turned out to be the greatest exercise in patience that Vader had ever experienced. One would think he’d just tried to kill Luke from the way he was reacting. Every moment of the walk, waves of red hot anger assaulted his mind; fortunately he was stronger than his son, so the constant onslaught of fury was easily deflected. But then, every so often, a demand would reach him: _Let me go, you bastard_ or _I can walk on my own, you just like being an asshole;_ something along those lines. And each time, Vader stubbornly ignored him. 

It was frustrating--and also slightly disturbing--that his son had such a dislike of him that being carried in this way was so terrible to him. It was not Vader’s preferred method of transporting him either; he would prefer that Luke walk on his own, as that would prove an excellent test of his naturally strong abilities. But Luke had insisted on not using the Dark Side, and if there was a dragon behind them...well. He had no other options, and Luke was being unnecessarily overdramatic about the whole thing. 

Rage speared straight at him again, and with the equivalent of a mental sigh, Vader prepared for another demand. He waited...waited…

_You kriffing JERK, you’d better put me down before we go in there!_

Again, Vader sighed. 

_And why is that?_ He wished that Luke would just tolerate the situation and be quiet, but some amusement was beginning to creep in amidst the growing frustration with his son. Luke seemed to think that he was actually threatening his father with these demands. 

_Because this position is making my ribs worse._

That took Vader by surprise; he had completely forgotten that Luke’s ribs were damaged, and for a moment he felt a twinge of guilt. But, he reasoned, that injury was far less serious than the other one, the leg wound; and he had walked for miles, even run at need, with his ribs the way they were. He could not run on the leg. 

_That does not matter,_ he thought back, tightening his grip on Luke. _The wound in your leg is what matters. You cannot aggravate it...unless you wish, of course, to_ control _it. Then I will gladly allow you to walk._

Silence. Luke had no response to that, and behind the mask, Vader smiled. His son was beginning to see reason. 

_Besides,_ he added for good measure, _if the power is out, the turbolifts will not be functional. We must take the stairs, six flights to reach the girl’s floor, and I doubt you could handle walking_ that. 

There was a moment of silence. Vader was beginning to think he had officially hammered in the lesson, and then--

_I bet I could, you piece of bantha shit._

Vader clenched his right fist, the one that was not holding Luke in place, and focused on calming himself. He would get nowhere if he were to erupt again. 

But it was so _difficult_ not to be angry when _they could not leave._ He had thought they could get out, he’d believed that after they took care of the dragon, he would finally, _finally_ be able to take Luke back to the _Executor_ to begin his training...but he had forgotten that the facility connected to the hospital. 

And he had four days. 

Another few steps, and they had come around behind the hospital to the employees’ entrance; Vader had seen this before, during his hunt for Luke prior to the dragons’ escape, and he knew it would be easy to enter, as well as there being less of a chance of them being seen before they got to the sixth floor. Getting in was easy enough; all he had to do was clench his fist and focus his power. The lock did nothing--instead, the hinges creaked and twisted, and gradually the door collapsed. 

“This is my old facility,” the scientist shouted angrily; the others were several meters behind them. “You can’t just destroy it on a whim!” 

At first Vader did not reply; he wanted nothing more than to kill the worthless scientist, but he knew that Luke would protest _that_ as well. He would have to train that out of the boy eventually, but for the moment, he resolved to wait and simply... _get rid of_ the Mirialan when Luke was not around to witness. He walked forward through the destroyed door, careful on his left side especially so that Luke was not bumped into anything, and turned back. 

“At the moment, you are alive,” he said to the scientist. “And that is more mercy than I usually bestow on deceivers of the Empire.” 

Without waiting for a reply, he wheeled back and began to climb the stairs. 

Instantly, Luke’s anger _flared_ again, probably in response to what had just been said, but Vader did _not_ care. Ever since he had arrived on Felucia, he had been forced to be more patient and more merciful with _everyone_ than usual, and it was really, really getting on his nerves. He had been of the mindset that it would be easier to turn Luke if he first grew accustomed to his father’s presence, and so Vader had attempted to do things his way; but he was still proving to be as stubborn as ever, and especially after the day’s events, Vader was beginning to lose his patience. 

_Four days._

No, the sun was steadily rising. Three and a half. 

_Put me down,_ came the stubborn voice in his mind again, more vehement this time. _These stairs aren’t that bad, I can walk, PUT ME DOWN!_

 _You are acting like a child,_ Vader told him. 

But Luke didn’t even hesitate to respond. _You’re_ treating _me like a child._

 _That is because you are one,_ Vader thought, but he shielded that from Luke. _You are_ my _child._

And that made him wonder, and doubt himself. Was he doing this, in part, because he wanted some excuse to hold his son the way he had never been allowed to? Was that why? 

No, he told himself, not in the least. It was merely practical, that was all. 

He came to the top of the first flight. Once more, fury was thrown at him in the Force, and once more, Vader tightened his grip. 

Six flights they walked in this manner, Vader ignoring the mental demands and taking care not to swing Luke into anything as he turned, and the other four traipsing along about a flight below. The girl must be growing tired, he realized, due to her injury. Good. He had no wish to be around Sola Naberrie longer than necessary. 

At last they arrived at the top, and since that door was locked as well--naturally--once again Vader clenched his fist. In moments, that door, too, creaked and twisted and fell away. 

“Why the hell did you do that?” Luke demanded. “There are people up here--”

“They will do as I command them, and nothing else matters. Keep quiet.” 

With that said, and with Luke’s fury shooting up once more in the Force, Vader stepped onto the sixth floor. Instantly, the nurse sitting at the welcome desk jumped up, gaping at him; but he marched resolutely past her, searching for an open room; two doors would be enough to destroy for the day. 

“You are not just going to _take_ one of these rooms,” Luke snapped. “First you blow down two doors, then storm into a room and claim it for yourself? I’d have thought the second in command of their beloved Empire would treat his lowly subjects with a little more respect, but maybe that’s just me.” 

“And I would have thought that your prolonged position would have made you too dizzy to attempt any more sarcasm,” Vader shot back, turning into an open room. “But as it is, we have arrived, and you will henceforth _cease_ your infernal complaining.” 

“Oh, wow, you’re really--HEY!” Luke yelped as he was dropped onto the bed. 

Vader couldn’t help but feel slightly amused. “I was of the opinion that you _wanted_ me to let you down.” 

“Yeah, just not like...ugh.” Luke suddenly seemed to realize that he was sitting right side up again, and groaned as he put his head in his hands. “Oh, _Force,_ my head hurts. _”_ Despite looking absolutely miserable, he managed to shoot a glare up at Vader. “You’re an absolute _jerk_ for doing that to me, I hope you know th--”

“Stay here, or _else_.” Vader jabbed a warning finger in Luke’s face, turned briskly, and walked out into the hall, where about half a dozen doctors were hovering anxiously, clearly bewildered at what had just happened. 

When he emerged into the hallway, they all stared at him. Good; he had their attention, and their fear, so they would be more likely to do as he asked. 

“There is an injured youth in that room,” Vader announced. “He has been wounded by a wild creature. The injury has been cleansed, but it needs better treatment, immediately, or the youth will be damaged further. One of you _will_ treat him.” 

The doctors and nurses glanced uncertainly at one another, and Vader forced himself to wait. Why did _everyone_ suddenly lack the power of speech when he threatened them? He would expect that if anyone was currently in peril of death, they would have done what he wanted them to without a moment’s hesitation. 

At last, one doctor--a Togruta, fairly young, and didn’t _that_ bring up more awful memories--stepped up. 

“I’ll do it,” he said. “I have experience with treating animal bites.” 

“Good.” Vader turned around and walked back toward the room. “Follow me.” 

  
  


Luke sat on the bed and _fumed._

He could have walked, he could have walked, he’d been doing it _just fine,_ but then Vader just _had_ to step in, didn’t he? Beyond the embarrassment and fury he was feeling--oh, not to mention the initial panic when it had appeared that he was being taken off the planet, yeah, that had been just _great_ \--it didn’t seem like Vader had thought it through, either. Sure, his leg was hurting a lot less, but his _ribs_ were not; due to the fact that Vader’s shoulder armor had been digging into his abdomen for the last ten minutes, they felt significantly worse, and it hurt to breathe. 

And besides that, the immediate effect of being carried half upside down across a field and up _six flights of stairs_ was that all the blood had gone to his head and back again after he was reacquainted with the world in its natural state, so at the moment all he could do was sit on the bed and try to get the room to stop spinning.

With all that going on Luke had _hoped_ he’d get a break, but after just a few moments Vader reentered the room, followed by a Togruta doctor. With an effort, he pushed his anger down for the doctor’s sake. 

“Hello,” said the doctor, anxiously; Luke couldn’t blame him. He knew what it felt like to have that black shadow standing right behind him. “I am Doctor Alvi. I hear that…” 

“You can dispense with the pleasantries,” Vader growled, and poor Doctor Alvi visibly flinched. “We are short on time.” 

Suddenly Luke decided that he had _had_ it. It was bad enough to have Vader threatening and terrifying and demanding things of _him,_ enough that he’d almost killed Aphra, and Pandaki...but to bring those same threats on a doctor neither of them knew, who was already being infringed upon by Luke’s uninvited stay in the hospital? 

Luke was not going to tolerate that. 

“Listen, he’s actually going to treat my leg,” he snapped, “after you’ve burst your way in here and demanded he take his time away from _actual patients_ to look at my leg, which Aphra’s already cleaned up, so either shut up and leave him alone or just get out of here!” 

Instant panic flashed across Doctor Alvi’s face, as if he was mortified that anyone would dare speak to Darth Vader in such a way. 

But Luke didn’t care. He’d had enough. 

“You presume _far_ too much,” Vader said. “I do not want to be here either; if I had had the privilege to take you _back_ to my ship we would not be having this conversation.”

“Well, we’re having it,” Luke snapped, and the poor doctor looked in terror between the two of them. “And I’m actually going to be nice to him, so if you’re not, why don’t you go wait out in the hall.”

Vader’s fury spiked in the Force. “You are in _no_ position to make demands of _me,_ young one. You would do well to remember your place.” His voice softened dangerously. “When we return to the _Executor,_ things can either be easy or difficult for you.” 

A wave of fear ran through him, and he shuddered; but then Luke remembered that, at the moment, there was no danger of being taken back to a cell on the _Executor,_ was there? The power was still out. They couldn’t go anywhere. 

So Vader’s threats were empty. 

“I don’t care,” he said. “I don’t want this doctor to have to treat me with you breathing down his neck.” 

Luke expected another surge of anger, but instead, the constant fury in Vader’s mind just...dimmed, as if he was taken aback, as if he didn’t know what to say in response to that. 

But that did not mean that there was no anger at all. 

“As...you wish,” Vader growled at last, intense displeasure lacing his voice. His hands clenched into fists, as if he wished he could do something to let out his anger; and then, turning sharply, he stalked out of the room. 

_Good,_ Luke thought. _For once, I have the advantage._

But then, as Alvi wheeled back, eyes wide in disbelief, Luke was stung by sadness. He supposed he’d accepted it now; he did not want it to be true, but it was. Vader was a terrible father, but he was his father. 

And that just made things worse. 

_I don’t want to have to be fighting for an_ advantage _with my own father._

_I don’t want life as a son to be a constant fight._

“Thank you, sir,” said Doctor Alvi, drawing Luke out of his spiraling thoughts. “I can…” Nervously, he looked over his shoulder and then lowered his voice. “I’ll be able to focus much better now.” 

Luke looked up, over Alvi’s shoulder; Vader was standing just outside. Luke stared him down, and though Vader’s fury once again raged, the Sith turned and walked stiffly away. 

“That’s good,” he said to Alvi. 

The doctor put on a pair of gloves. “Where is the injury?”

“Right…” Gingerly, clenching his teeth through the pain, Luke rolled up his trouser leg. “Right here.” 

“Ahh.” Alvi came around to his leg. “This may hurt.” 

Luke chuckled. “I’ve dealt with a lot of that today. I’m used to it.” 

Luke took a deep breath. As he did so, a sharp pain stabbed through his chest. 

“Oh, that’s not all,” he said, and a look of alarm shot across the doctor’s face. “I think my ankle--right ankle, same as the leg wound--was twisted. I fell out of a tree. Oh, and one of my ribs might be broken.” 

Alvi’s eyebrows shot up. 

“I almost don’t want to ask,” he said. “What in the galaxy have you been doing?”

“Yeah, probably better if you don’t ask,” Luke said wearily. “It’s been a long three days.” 

“I would expect it, traveling around with...with _him._ ” Leaning forward, Alvi began to unwrap the bandages Aphra had wrapped around the wound. Pain speared at Luke briefly as the action pulled at his skin, but this time he managed not to cry out. 

Then the wound was unwrapped completely, and Alvi stared at it. 

“That is...a bad wound,” the doctor said slowly. “What kind of creature did you say did that to you?”

Luke looked at him steadily. “I didn’t say.” 

“Well, I--” Alvi looked uncertain. “I need to know what kind of creature it was, to treat that wound.” 

Luke sighed. He’d have to be careful; if everyone knew there were manufactured krayt dragons running around, they would freak. But Alvi was also right. 

“A...a dragon,” he said at last. “Does that help?”

Alvi looked frightened, but he nodded. “It does.” He turned toward a cabinet and rummaged around in it, searching for something. “Unfortunately, due to the power outage, we...do not have the use of a bacta tank at our disposal.”

Luke frowned. “You want to put me in bacta?”

Even the thought of it was disgusting. He could still remember the taste that that residue had left in his mouth on Hoth. 

“Young man, I do not think you realize how terrible that wound is,” said Alvi with a touch of amusement. “If I look hard, I can _see_ your tibia.”

Oh, right. Luke had forgotten about that. 

A sudden _push_ against his mind, a demand to be let in, and he flinched.

_If that doctor does not treat the wound correctly, young one, not even your pleas will stop me from killing him._

_Shut up,_ Luke thought back, but for a moment he had hope. Was Vader worried about him? He wouldn’t have thought the man would be concerned about his wound, since he seemed to want _Luke_ to heal it; but everything about that last sentence, as horrifying as it was in regard to Alvi, seemed to radiate concern. Was Vader really concerned for him? Was that why he--

_You need to be strong in order to begin your training._

In an instant, his hope was crushed. 

“Bacta would be ideal,” Alvi went on, completely ignorant of the turmoil going on in Luke’s mind, “but for now, what I will do is place several bacta patches along the wound’s surface. For an hour, I would not suggest any kind of movement; I will elevate the leg. Then, I will return to at least attempt to stitch up the wound, in addition to taking care of the ankle and ribs.”

Luke nodded numbly, hardly hearing Alvi; again, the wave of sadness hit him. 

_Why can’t I have a father who thinks about what I actually want?_

_Why can’t I have a father who loves me?_

  
  
  


At some point during the trek up the stairs, Sola and the others had fallen behind Darth Vader--and Luke, by extension--mostly because Ruya had grown more exhausted with each step they claimed. She’d lost some blood, after all, and though Aphra had cleaned those wounds as well, they would have to be looked at. 

“Ruya,” she said as the girl dragged her feet up step after step. “Ruya, we only have one more stair, then we’re at the top. How are you feeling?”

“I want to stop walking,” she mumbled. 

“We’re almost there.” Sola hesitated. “But I don’t want you to walk if you’re too exhausted. I know your back must hurt.” 

Ruya looked up to the top of the stairs, where the door had just collapsed, at Vader’s command. 

“Can you carry _me_ like that?” she said excitedly. “That looks fun.” 

“Can I...no.” Sola didn’t even know what to say. “No. I am not doing that. But…” She knelt down. “Remember when I used to give you a ride on my back? When you were little?”

Ruya’s face brightened. “You said I was too old to do that anymore.” 

“Well, right now you’re injured,” Sola said, “so right now your age doesn’t matter. If you’re not too embarrassed--”

“No, I’m tired,” Ruya said, and climbed onto her mother’s back. At once, Sola knew she shouldn’t have done that. Regardless of how old Ruya was getting, Sola knew for certain that _she_ was too old; the action pulled at her joints as she stood. But Ruya immediately relaxed, laying her head against Sola’s neck. 

_I took this for granted,_ Sola thought as she resumed the climb up the stairs. _Having my daughter with me all the time...safe...I am_ never _letting her out of my sight again._

Did Vader know what that was like? Sola’s instincts told her _no, he’s a black-hearted monster and if he hadn’t saved my daughter I’d shoot him until he died,_ but...but there was also the matter of him being Anakin Skywalker. And she had _known_ Anakin. Not very well, at first only from the tales of his heroism; but she’d met him. 

_“Did you know you’re the first boyfriend my sister’s brought home?”_

_“He’s not my boyfriend,” Padmé says quickly--too quickly._

_She looks over at Anakin; he might be trying to hide it but he’s grinning, that boy has the audacity to_ grin _at her._

_What a rascal. She knows already why her sister likes him._

The two men--and one of them could hardly be counted as a _man,_ more like a spiteful monster of a droid--were almost impossible to reconcile. But it was true. So, the question was, based on her knowledge of Anakin...did he have those same thoughts about his son? Did he feel terrible that he had missed all of Luke’s life? 

He’d carried him all the way here and up the stairs, which at the time seemed like exactly the kind of thing he’d do to someone he detested, both terrifying and humiliating...but it was also for the purpose of not making Luke walk. For helping his injury, which was the most caring thing she’d seen out of him so far. It wasn’t much. It was the bare minimum, it was _below_ the minimum of what one should do as a parent. 

But it also hadn’t _seemed_ very loving…

 _No,_ she told herself stubbornly. _Whoever he was, he’s Darth Vader now, and I need to get my nephew away from him._

At last they reached the top of the stairs; Vader and Luke were nowhere to be seen, and Sola stopped to address Aphra and Pandaki. 

“I’m taking Ruya to our room,” she said, turning carefully so as not to bump Ruya into the wall. “I don’t expect you to follow me; in fact, I’m going to ask you not to. I don’t know how my husband and my mother will respond.” 

“Yeah, we weren’t planning on it,” Aphra said. “We’ll just…” She motioned toward one of the testing labs. “I have clearance to be in there.”

“Wonderful. And, both of you, if I don't see you before we leave the planet…” Sola smiled. “Thank you. You helped me find my daughter.” 

“Let’s go,” mumbled Ruya. 

Sola ignored her for the moment. “Really. You’ve been such a help.” 

Pandaki, she noticed, looked uncomfortable. 

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Aphra said, and then darted a grin at her. “At least we got to bond over a good drink.” 

Sola chuckled. “That we did.” 

“I apologize, but…” Pandaki sighed. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t do anything to help you. It was all Aphra. I...I am simply not a fighter, and--”

“Stop it,” Sola told him gently. “Maybe you didn’t fight the dragon, but if you hadn’t recognized she was breathing behind us, we all would have died. And,” she added as Pandaki opened his mouth, “don’t say everything’s your fault. Yes, you’re the scientist who created these dragons. And that gave you the advantage of knowing how she breathes, which saved our lives. Not to mention that you were ready to die, then. And that you’ve been sorry every minute since the dragons escaped.” 

Tears welled in the scientist’s eyes, as if for the last few days, this was all he had wanted to hear. It probably was, Sola realized. 

“Thank you,” he said at last. “And as someone who’s been to Naboo many times over, I can say that you are utterly worthy of your house.” 

Sola’s smile grew. 

“Thank you,” she said. “And if I don’t see you, if you have to leave...thank you, from the bottom of my heart.” 

Aphra and Pandaki returned her smile, and something tugged at Sola’s heart; something that wished to stay with both of these people forever, that did not want to leave them. She’d met them in anger, she’d wounded Aphra...but by the end of these horrible two and a half days, these people had become the best of friends. Sola had to get to her room, had to reassure her mother and Amil that everything was all right; but it was a lovely moment, to simply stand in the presence of her new friends and smile. 

“Mama, I have to go to the bathroom,” whispered Ruya, and the lovely moment was utterly destroyed. 

Aphra laughed. “Oh, I’m gonna miss you, kid.” 

“I guess that means it’s time to go,” Sola said, turning toward her mother’s room. “Thank you!” 

Aphra and Pandaki waved a hand each in farewell. Reluctantly, Sola turned her back on them completely and walked the last remaining steps to Jobal Naberrie’s assigned room. 

Carefully, she knocked. 

The look on her husband’s face would be wonderful. 

“Come in,” called a male voice. Amil. 

“I’m going to put you down,” Sola whispered. Slowly, she lowered Ruya to the ground, grabbed her daughter’s hand, and opened the door. 

Her mother lay in bed, looking straight ahead; Amil was pacing in front of the window, but as the door opened he spun around. In a moment, Sola saw fear, hope, and disbelief all pass over his face; and then he ran forward. 

“Ruya!” In one movement, Amil dropped to his knees and started to embrace her. “Oh, baby girl--”

“Careful,” Sola warned him. “She has wounds on her back.” 

Amil’s head shot up. “Wounds?” Quickly, he turned her around and gasped. “Who did this to her?”

“It’s…” Sola sighed. “Please don’t overreact. She’s fine, I’ll get a doctor in here to get her cleaned up. But is there…?” She looked around the room. “There isn’t another bed, is there?”

“Put her on the couch,” Jobal said; her voice was weaker than Sola remembered. “She can lay next to me.” 

“Excellent.” Putting his arms under her shoulders and knees, Amil lifted Ruya with ease and gave Sola a quick kiss. “Thank you, my love. _Thank you._ ”

Sola smiled. “Thank _you_ for staying with my mother.” 

Amil returned the smile--his face had _never_ looked so beautiful--and carried Ruya over to the couch. 

“Now, Sola.” Sola turned at the sound of her mother’s voice; she knew what she was in for. Jobal never missed anything. “How did you save her? It sounded as if...there were monsters out there.” 

“There were, Mother.” Sola swallowed. “I had to run from one, and then fight it to save Ruya. I’m…” She swallowed again. Why were there so many lumps in her throat? “I’m lucky all it did was scratch her back.” 

Jobal nodded. “And is it dead?”

Sola hesitated. 

“It’s not dead,” Jobal said with a sigh. “Ah, well. I suppose you have people who will take care of it. For you to have survived, you must have been helped by someone very skilled at such a thing.” 

“I…” _Damn it._ He was right here in the hospital, _both of them_ were right here in the hospital; with the power outage, her mother might very well die in the next twenty-four hours. She had to know. “Yes.” Sola took a deep breath. “But there’s...something I need to tell you.” 

  
  


Luke had never met a better doctor. Alvi laid the bacta patches along his wound in a way that did not hurt too badly, his fingers moving carefully and methodically; he then showed the same caution in laying ice packs against Luke’s ribs and ankle. 

“Remove them every ten minutes,” Alvi instructed him, “but otherwise, leave them be. And do not move the bacta patches at all; it will help speed the healing process. I will return in an hour.” 

He turned to go, and Luke grabbed his arm. 

“Thank you,” he said, pouring as much sincerity as possible into his voice. “You didn’t have to do this; I’m here completely unannounced, and Darth Vader is just making you do it. So...thanks.” 

Alvi smiled. “There’s no problem at all, young man. I’m glad to help you.” 

Luke smiled back. This, he thought fiercely, _this_ was what he was not going to allow Vader to take away from him: the novelty of basic human connection, even a smile or a word of gratitude, that created friendship and helped all parties involve feel _good_ inside. 

It was something that Vader didn’t understand. 

Something beeped; Alvi pulled a comlink out of his coat. 

“Yes,” the doctor said quietly, “I’m aware there’s a meeting. I’m just finishing up with a patient.” 

A comlink. 

The last twenty-four hours had been absolutely _insane,_ but he never should have forgotten-- _why_ hadn’t he remembered--

He had to make a call. 

But not only that; now it had become clear to him that Vader wanted nothing more than to get him off the planet. The power was off for now, but there was no telling when it would come back on...and when it did, he knew that Vader would waste no time in taking him off to the _Executor._

But if someone else were to show up…

Someone with an excellent ship at her disposal…

Why hadn’t he thought of this until now? 

It didn’t matter, it would be all right; as long as he got the message through before Vader came back. If he were to catch Luke at that…

That would _not_ be good. 

“Doctor Alvi,” Luke said, and the Togruta turned around once more. “Do you…” He sighed. “I hope this doesn’t sound...weird, but do you mind if I use your comlink?” 

Alvi frowned. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind. But why?”

“I have a frequency,” Luke said evenly. “And I need to make a call.” 

  
  
  


How dare Luke demand things of him? How dare Luke question his authority, in such a public place, and make him look like a _fool?_ He was the boy’s father. He should be in there, watching the procedure, watching everything that that insipid doctor was doing; it might go wrong. Anything might go wrong, and then Luke would find another excuse to prolong his training. Vader knew it. 

_Anything might go wrong,_ whispered a voice, so quiet he barely noticed it, _and that would be terrible, because he cannot be hurt, because he is precious, because he is your_ **_son_** _\--_

_No._

Vader shoved the voice away without a second thought; it disappeared easily, and he dismissed it. Such opinions were weak; they were of Anakin Skywalker. They may have mattered once, but they did not matter any longer. 

There was no point trying to protect others; he could only teach them to protect themselves. 

There was no point trying to protect others, because then he would be at risk.

There was no point trying to protect others, because it had been proven to him long ago that that was impossible. 

_Attempt to protect others, and they will be taken from you._

A laugh interrupted his musings, and his black mood went blacker. Sola. Sola _Naberrie,_ the woman who already seemed determined to undermine him; but fortunately, she did not have her sister’s laugh. That made it easier to hate her.

Still, some unseen force drove him around the corner, to see what she was laughing about. 

Sola had just left a hospital room, accompanied by a man; her husband, it must be. They were laughing at something together...or not. What reason did a husband and wife need to laugh? They would do it at the drop of a hat, because they loved each other. 

It was almost an alien idea. Almost. 

And it made his anger burn hotter. He had been denied such things; they were useless, worthless. Why should anyone else have them? 

Fortunately, they moved quickly, disappearing down the hall. The girl was not with them; she must be inside the room. And she would most definitely be asleep. 

The sounds of soft laughter slowly faded. 

And then Vader was left with an opportunity he had not had in twenty-two years. 

There was something of his that, perhaps, had not been buried with...her. 

Something that was his, that had been, initially, made by him; he had always wondered if her family had taken it before the burial, or not. There was a chance, just a chance, the _smallest_ chance that they hadn’t…

And now he had the opportunity to search a room that held nothing but a sleeping child. 

Something in his mind whispered that it was sentimental, that it was weakness, that it was _Anakin;_ he dismissed it quickly. She had kept it, but he had given it to her, in life...and with her death, he should have been given it back. _They_ were not her family; she had left them, to pledge herself to _him._ That necklace was his; he _must_ have it. It was his by right, as she had been his by right. 

(As his son was his by right.)

Vader moved quickly, crossing the hall like a shadow before arriving at the door. There he hesitated, a moment; only a moment. Then he reached out, opened the door with the Force, and stepped inside. 

A soft noise stopped him in his tracks; a woman, there was a _woman_ lying there, and it could be no one but...but...Jobal, his mind supplied a name, Jobal Naberrie. Quickly, he stretched out with the Force, searching for her, and for the child beside her. 

Asleep, both of them. 

With that settled, Vader moved into the room, searching for where the necklace might possibly be. They would bring it with them, if they had it; and if they _didn’t,_ clearly they did not honor her memory, and they were not worthy of her. 

There was only one place they would have it; it would be among Sola’s things, most likely. A purse? 

There. On the table. 

Monitoring the two females one last time--still both asleep--Vader turned his back on them and moved toward the woman’s purse, a small thing, but brightly adorned with jewels. He stepped toward it. 

He stopped. 

_You are sentimental._

_You are thinking of a person who betrayed you. Who you were unable to protect. A person who was weak._

_A person who loved you,_ something else whispered, but he ignored it. 

Yes. It had been a mistake to come in here; a moment of weakness, nothing more, and to make up for it he would return to Luke’s room and demand to see how everything was going. 

He turned around. 

Jobal was sitting up. 

Vader froze. For the first time since Bespin, he did not know what to do. He waited, staring at his mother-in-law in his monstrous form, a terror; but she appeared unaffected. 

And then, to his _utter_ chagrin, Jobal smiled. 

"Hello, Anakin," she said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking a leaf out of LadyVader23's book: the main songs for this chapter were "The Chain" by Fleetwood Mac for Luke, "Thousand Eyes" by Of Monsters And Men, and a lot of the Aliens and Jurassic Park soundtracks for Veers and Piett.  
> Let me know what you think in the comments!


	25. Aching To Be Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veers and Piett continue their attempt to turn the power back on; Vader and his mother-in-law have a very important conversation; Luke talks to an old friend.  
> Alternate chapter title: The In-Laws.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to my beta, KaelinaLovesLomaris! I gave her two really long chapters this week, so...she does a great job, guys.

Veers didn’t know what was down there with him, or if there was anything at all; he only knew that he had to hurry. 

The problem was, he couldn’t hurry too much, or else something might go wrong. 

And this _stupid_ database system didn’t seem to grasp the severity of the situation. 

_Are you a member of LARS?_ The words appeared across the screen. 

He typed the answer, _Yes,_ in Binary. 

The pause between his answer and the next question was too long, and he couldn’t do a thing about it. Blasted droids. 

Then the next question came. _Which way would you like to reboot the system?_

Grammatically, it didn’t make sense, but Vinh had said, ‘Complete,’ so that was what Veers typed in. 

Another long pause. 

“Max?” Piett’s voice, barely a whisper, spoke from the comlink. 

“Quiet,” Veers said. “I’m all right; I haven’t heard anything since--”

_Scritch._

Veers froze. It was as if...as if someone was tapping the floor with a cane, or scraping it with a knife. Maybe both at once. 

“Never mind,” he said. “I’m hurrying up.” 

_What is the password?_ came the next question. 

Veers thought. It was a formula, it was some kind of formula; started with a T. TiC...blank. 

“Firmus,” he hissed. 

“Yes?”

“Password,” he whispered. “It starts with TiC, but I don’t remember the rest!”

There was silence on the other end. 

“I…” 

Oh, no. _No, no, no--_

“You don’t remember,” Veers said. “Do you?”

“I…I know it starts TiC--”

“That’s because I just said that.” 

“No--well, _yes,_ but I know--”

_Scritch._

Veers tensed; his hand slid to his blaster. Just in case, he shone the light around once more, into every corner; nothing. 

“I know the next part is Li, but...it’s a formula--”

“LiCl,” Veers remembered out loud. “TiC, LiCl...K...K…” 

_Scritch, scratch._

“ _K,_ Firmus!” he half shouted. 

“I remember! KCl!”

“Yes, yes, that’s it. TiC, LiCl, KCl…” Veers racked his brain. “Number. There was a number…”

“Five!” 

“ _Five!_ Firmus, I love you!” 

“Save the romantic declarations for when you get back up here,” Piett said sharply, and with _that_ level of sarcasm Veers knew his friend must be _really_ tense. “Get that password in, and remember the hyphens!”

  
  


There was a moment of silence as he realized just _what_ that unfortunate woman had said. _Hello, Anakin._ A moment of shock. 

Then, there was rage. 

“Do. Not. _Dare_ to call me that name,” he hissed, stalking towards the bed on which his...his _mother-in-law_ lay. “Anakin is _dead._ He was a weak fool who believed in and fought for all the wrong things. He is better off forgotten.” 

There was a moment of silence, in which Jobal stared at him with her sharp, pale eyes. Weak as she appeared, Vader saw that she had an inner strength that could not be easily defeated. 

Like _her._

And...and like Luke. 

“You are the fool if you think the galaxy has forgotten him,” Jobal said softly. “He may be dead, and the Empire may control information; but there are many people who remember his courage. His heroism in battle.” The look in her eyes seemed to stab straight to his soul. “His selflessness toward those he loved.” 

That was _it._

Anakin was dead, and he would _stay_ dead. 

“You do not understand, woman,” he snapped. “Those _are_ weaknesses. You do not have the Force; but I do, and it has put me through great agony. There is no point to selflessness or heroism; they are _empty._ They gain you _nothing._ ” 

Jobal did not seem to have an immediate response to that. She gave a cough and lay back, her eyes shifting towards Ruya. 

Suddenly, Vader remembered that they were not the only ones in the room. 

“Is she asleep?” he asked, wishing that there was a way to better control the volume of the vocoder. 

“Yes.” Jobal’s gaze slid back to him. “They gave her several painkillers after cleaning her wounds with bacta. She will not hear our conversation, as long as we remain moderately quiet.” 

Conversation. She _wanted_ to talk? 

“You wish to speak with me,” he intoned, half disbelieving. 

Jobal smiled thinly. “I am recovering from pneumonia; currently, I need a breath mask that can only be supplied when the power returns. But even without that...my body is failing. I might die soon. This will be the only chance I have to speak with...my son-in-law.” Her eyes hardened. “Or my daughter’s killer.” 

Killer. 

Over the last twenty-two years, he had learned to repress the guilt; to tell himself that she had betrayed him, that he was stronger without her, that he would have been unable to protect her. He had become very good at it. But when it was phrased like _that,_ everything that he had done in the years past became utterly worthless. The guilt broke through the walls he had erected, pouring into his blackened heart and poisoning his mood. 

_“Or,_ ” he echoed, clenching his hand into a fist. She was _her_ mother, flesh and blood; but if she was going to die anyway, he might be doing her a favor by killing her. 

If she went too far. 

“What do you _mean,_ ” he rumbled, making sure not to phrase it as a question. There were no questions with him. Only demands. Those yielded answers quicker.

“I know you as two people,” Jobal said. “I know you as who you are now: a cruel monster, a killer of children, the murderer of my daughter, a creature that barely counts as a man. I have a difficult time, I admit, seeing anything else in you; but I know that you are also the gentle-hearted boy who came into my house once and nearly _inhaled_ my potatoes.”

Thoughts flew through his mind at that, beautiful, painful memories; but he was able to shove them away for the sake of one piece of information. 

“You know me,” he said, making his voice soft. “You know who I was. That is a carefully guarded secret; and since you will die soon, I am not angry. Only curious. How are you privy to it?”

“My other daughter,” Jobal replied after a moment’s hesitation. “She was told by Bail Organa; she did not believe it until now.” 

Until seeing Luke. 

That was strange; Bail Organa seemed an odd person to be included in the circle of those who knew. On the Empire’s side, only the Emperor knew, and Tarkin had before he died; as for the Rebellion, Vader was not as sure. Obi-Wan of course knew, and he was sure that Mothma did as well; but Organa? What cause would he have to know? 

Did that mean that the _Princess_ knew?

Vader clenched his other hand into a fist. Yet another reason to kill her. 

“But the problem remains.” Jobal seemed content to lead most of the conversation; Vader did not have a problem with that. It meant that he did not have to speak. “You were, at different times, my daughter’s protector and my daughter’s killer. So the question is...which are you today?”

“I am _neither,_ ” Vader snarled, “because Anakin did both of those things. And Anakin, as I have said, is _dead!_ ” 

The last word rose to a shout. Across the room, Ruya whimpered in her sleep.

“I would be quieter, if I were you,” Jobal said mildly. 

She had the _audacity_ to--

“Enough,” he hissed. “Clearly, you only wanted to speak to me for the sheer purpose of antagonizing me, out of some vindictive sense of revenge for your daughter’s death. What more do you _want?_ ”

Jobal smiled. 

“Oh, forgive me,” she said lightly. “I can get carried away. It’s the only chance I’ve got to speak to you plainly, after all. But here it is.” The smile faded, and once again she turned on him that soul-piercing gaze. “It has come to my attention that my grandson is in this hospital as well, and if I had my way you would not come near him for the rest of your life.” 

  
  


It was time. 

The bacta patches stung and made his wound itch, and his ankle and chest felt frozen, but Luke ignored all of that. As soon as Alvi had left, he shut the door with the Force, pulled out the comlink, and entered Leia’s frequency. 

_Please pick up,_ he thought, looking anxiously at the door. _Please pick up, please…_

There was no answer. Was he too far away? Was he not in range? It would make sense; he should have thought about it, but he couldn’t _bear_ the thought of it. 

_Please pick up please pick up…_

“Pardon me, anonymous caller, but Princess Leia is not here at the moment. Might I take a message? I am fluent in over six million--”

“Threepio!” Oh, how he’d missed that voice; it felt like something out of a dream. “Threepio, it’s me!” 

“Master Luke?” Did that droid know how to _speak quietly?_ “Oh, Master Luke, I am _delighted_ to hear your voice! Did you know, the Princess--”

“Threepio, keep quiet,” Luke hissed, and the droid immediately fell silent. “I’m in a place right now where _no one_ can hear what I’m saying. No one. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master Luke,” Threepio said at the same volume. 

Internally, Luke groaned and decided to make this as fast as possible. “Okay, that’s--that’s fine. Can you get Leia over here? Do you know where she is?” 

“I am afraid that I do not know,” Threepio said, and now Luke could hear concern in the protocol droid’s expressive voice. 

“You don’t know,” Luke echoed, and a terrible idea came to him: what if someone had attacked the base? Tried to assassinate Leia? It had happened a few times before, and of course she was capable of protecting herself; but he had been there, and now he wasn’t... “Well, why not?”

_I can’t lose her, too. I lost Han, I can’t lose her, I can’t--_

“Last night she said she had something to do,” Threepio replied. “She left the comlink with me, in case anyone tried to contact her. I thought she would come back, but I haven’t seen her at all today. Dear me, I hope something hasn’t happened.” 

“Well…” Luke sighed. “Is there any way I can get a message to her?”

“I will be happy to take a--”

“No, no.” Luke sighed again. “I want her to hear _exactly_ what I’m going to say, and I...I don’t want anyone else to hear. Is there a way--could you--”

“Of course, Master Luke.” Threepio didn’t seem in the least insulted; droids were too used to being dismissed, Luke thought sadly. He didn’t like it, but...there was no other way. “I will bring in an Artoo unit to record what you say through this comlink; he cannot tell anyone. He has been used by Princess Leia before to gather secret information. I must ask, how is our Artoo?”

Artoo was still waiting for him. That loyal droid; Luke had no way of contacting him, but he was surprised Artoo hadn’t come to help him yet. 

_I hope he didn’t run into any dragons._

“He’s...great,” Luke said weakly. “He misses you. He’s...looking forward to seeing you soon.” 

“Wonderful! So, nothing has happened to him. It is so easy for him to get into trouble. I do remember one time that--”

“Threepio,” Luke reminded him sternly. 

“Yes! Yes, of course. I am so sorry, Master Luke. I will return shortly.” 

For a few seconds there was silence on the other end; then, a series of beeps reached him. 

“This is R7,” Threepio said. “He will record your message. I do hope you return soon, Master Luke. We all dearly miss you.” 

Luke swallowed around the lump in his throat. 

“I...I miss you all, too,” he choked out. This message was going to be difficult if he couldn’t even say that to Threepio. 

_I am ready,_ said the droid. _We are alone. It is safe._

“All right. Erm...start the recording, I guess.” Luke heard a slight sound on the other end and knew everything was ready. He cleared his throat. “Uh...hi, Leia. I’m...first of all, I need to apologize. For everything. For the things I’m going to say to you later, but...I’m especially sorry for not coming back. I got...tied up with things on Felucia. Han is…” The lump was back. Luke swallowed. “Han isn’t anywhere on Felucia. He’s probably in Jabba’s clutches by now. I’m really sorry, I…” 

From somewhere in the hospital, Vader’s anger soared. Luke flinched and looked at the door, half expecting him to storm in; but nothing happened. 

“I...I didn’t expect any of this,” he went on. “Because, uh, it turns out that the scientists aren’t gone. And this is confidential, you can’t tell _anyone,_ but...they created dragons. They brought krayt dragons back from the dead, some _large_ ones, and I wouldn’t need my lightsaber anyway because they’re useless. They’re absolutely useless, these things are--” A unbidden memory of Dravos’ body snapped in half and devoured returned to him; Luke clenched his fists, fighting against panic. “They’re like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

Another memory pierced his mind: Vader, so confidently ready to destroy the hybrid, swinging his lightsaber at the chest--being thrown back--Luke would think of that every time Vader demanded something else of him. 

“The other thing is…” Luke took a deep breath. “This is why I didn’t escape. Darth Vader is here, with me, on the planet. Not with me at the moment,” he added quickly, thinking how Leia would react to _that,_ “I’m in a hospital getting a leg wound taken care of. That’s right. I forgot to mention that, the dragon got me. Just a little bit, so don’t get worried. Okay. Right, who am I kidding, you’re probably worried right already, but don’t be. I’m not dead, at least. Okay, that’s--that’s obvious. At least Vader’s not with me, like right now, and the doctors are great. And the dragons aren’t attacking me _right now,_ so...that’s good news?”

He winced. That was an awful explanation. 

The next bit was only going to be harder. 

“But Vader’s trying to take me off planet,” he went on, speaking more quietly now. “He...he’s been trying to since the moment he came here; the _Executor_ is waiting in orbit above Felucia. It has been for three days.” He took a deep breath. “The only reason I’m not there now is...there was a power outage that affected the hospital. We can’t get there; but he wants to. He’s so angry, that he can’t take me there--he’s so angry about _everything,_ really.” Luke took a deep, shaky breath; he hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted to get this out, to get it _all_ out, and now that he was getting it out, he felt...exhausted. Better, but exhausted. 

And there was one thing he _couldn’t_ say. 

“It’s terrifying, to be around him,” he went on quietly. “And I’ve been pretty well stuck to his side for three days. Fortunately, there’s this kid, Leia, this amazing kid; Ruya Naberrie. We ran into her, and she…” He chuckled. “She was able to give him a piece of her mind. She’s ten, but fearless, with a great sense of humor...she reminds me of you.” 

The lump reappeared; with difficulty, he swallowed. His eyes were burning. 

“I don’t want to leave with him, Leia,” he whispered, and took a deep breath. “I don’t want--I don’t want to--” He took another breath, this one shakier. “Sorry, it’s--it’s just been a long few days. I wish you were here with me.” 

He hadn’t thought about it much; the days had been too insane, and too terrifying, and too tense. But now that the desire crossed his mind, it was all he wanted: to have Leia there with him, helping him through it. Then nothing would be as bad, if she were there. She wouldn’t let Vader demand things of him. She’d give him worse sarcasm than Ruya, she’d attack him with words until he didn’t know what to say, she’d get him to leave, and then she’d give Luke a hug...now that it came down to it, Luke wished Han were there as well. Han would make Vader want to kill him; together, they’d make Luke feel better. 

But of course, it was impossible to have Han there. And...and...and if Leia was there, then she would be in danger from Vader. From the dragons. 

It was selfish, to want her to be there. 

He took a deep breath. “I can’t go with him, Leia. I can’t. Because of the usual reasons, obviously; I’d be away from the Rebellion, you’d be alone, we have to find Han, but--but there’s something else--”

_He’s my father._

No. No, he couldn’t say it, but--

_He’s my father._

_He’ll make me become like him._

No. 

_I’m in danger of becoming like him._

No. He couldn’t say it, he couldn’t say it, he couldn’t say it--

Leia would hate him for the rest of her life--

_Darth Vader is my FATHER!_

But it was begging, _screaming_ to get out of him; it had been for almost a month, for exactly three days short of a month, ever since he’d chosen death over going with Vader. He’d thought he had escaped it, he’d thought he would never be in danger of losing his soul again...but he had been wrong. It had torn him up inside every day since then, had eaten at him slowly, painfully, every second of every minute of every hour; because no matter how good his intentions were he was still the son of Darth Vader, and the moment that anyone found out they would despise him...but if he didn’t tell anyone, if he couldn’t tell anyone, if he couldn’t _talk about it,_ then the only person left to talk to was...Vader himself. 

And now he was stuck with Vader again. Once more his soul was in danger, and he didn’t know what was right anymore, and he _needed it out of him,_ and he needed to not be _taken off to psychological torture--_

But only Leia could save him from this mess. 

Only she could show up to sweep him out of danger, off the planet. 

So he couldn’t tell her. 

Tears streamed down his face in earnest now, hot, stinging tears, and he couldn’t wipe them away, couldn’t make a sound, because then Leia would know how awful things were for him. Then she would ask; and then he’d have to tell her when she showed up. 

Luke took a deep breath, forced a smile, and spoke. 

“It’s the Force,” he said. “He...he doesn’t want to kill me, now that he knows I’m…” _Damn it._ Too close. _I’m his son._ “I’m the son of Anakin Skywalker, and he wants to use me to help destroy all of you. You have to save me. I’ve never begged you for anything before; never since Bespin. But I think...you and Lando need to come save me, with the _Falcon._ You have to, or I’ll be taken off to the _Executor._ And I...the power might come back on any minute. I don’t know how much time I have left.”

He sighed. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her, _so badly,_ because of all people, she might be the one who would understand. 

But she also had been tortured by Vader. And had listened to Han be tortured by Vader. 

And that also made her the _last_ person he could tell. 

So instead, Luke said the one thing that would make her come for him, no matter what. 

“Help me, Leia.” He couldn’t stop his voice from shaking on the last syllable; if only she could understand the double meaning. “You’re my only hope.” He sighed. “Recording complete.” 

_Thank you,_ the droid told him. _I will deliver this only to Leia Organa._

Luke couldn’t say anything back; he probably should have, but he couldn’t. He could barely keep a handle on the emotions threatening to explode out of him. 

There was a beep, and the connection was cut. 

_Oh, Leia._

_I wish I could tell you._

_I wish I could tell_ anyone. 

Luke felt himself start to shake. With no one there to watch or hear him, he sank down on the hospital bed and let the tears fall. 

  
  
  


_For the rest of your life._

Fury coursed through him. Of course that’s what it was. He should have seen it. She did not want to speak to him for _his_ sake _,_ she wanted to pull Luke even further away from him than he already was. She wanted to berate him for being a terrible father, to demand that he never come close to his son-- _his son_ \--as long as he lived. 

“What do you want with _him?_ ” Vader demanded. “He is mine, he is _mine_ by right, and I will not have him taken from me.” 

At that, Jobal bristled. 

“I might have said that when Padmé left _everything she knew_ to marry _you,_ in secret,” she said icily, and oh, how it _burned_ to hear her name, “but I did not. When I found out, I did not approve; but you had seemed like a good boy, someone who would treat her well. Of course, you did _not,_ but how was I to know? And beyond that, it was what _she wanted._ She--” Jobal broke away into several harsh coughs. “She wanted it. It was her choice, and she was an adult. So what else could I do?”

What was she saying? It had been so long since he’d had to think, to care, about someone else that it took him a moment. But then he realized. 

She was insinuating that he had to do what _Luke_ wanted. 

“I cannot do that,” he told her. “I know that he does not want to become a Sith, but he does not understand. His education in that regard has been lax; he knows of the Force, but not much. He _must_ become a Sith, or he will die.” 

“Do you mean that he will not be able to protect himself?” Jobal scoffed. “Because many people are capable of protecting themselves without the use of the Force.” 

Once again, Vader clenched his fists, reminding himself that she did not know; she was simply an _ordinary_ woman. She knew nothing of _destiny._

“Do not be so sure,” he told her, stepping forward. “For years, the Jedi protected you from greater threats, threats you did not know of; they did not do it well, they barely did it adequately, but they protected you all the same. And then, when the Emperor and I seized power, we formed an Empire to better protect you. Any complaints you have against the Empire, any objections you have out of our rule are born from your soft state of existence. Black Sun exists. Pirates exist...and _slavers exist,_ ” he added, fighting desperately to keep any fury from entering his voice at that. Jobal Naberrie was a shrewd woman. “Those are only a few threats. We have not abolished everything; but then, we have not been given the time that your Republic was, and it still failed. We cannot stop everything, but we stop many things; you simply do not see it.” 

_Let us see what you can say to_ that, he thought smugly, stepping back.

Jobal was silent for several seconds, as if weighing his words in her mind; as if deciding what to say. Perhaps he had well and truly convinced her; and if so, his son could take a lesson in listening from her. 

Then she smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. 

“That is a very poor excuse,” she said lightly, “for refusing to be a father.” 

Vader sputtered. 

That was all. That was _all it took_ to destroy everything he had been thinking, all his rationale, all his logic. _Refusing to be a father._ She did not understand--she did not know that turning him to the Dark Side _was_ protecting him! 

But that wasn’t what it looked like, was it? It struck Vader as if for the first time; and he had known it inside, but had not thought about it. He had been a Sith for twenty-two years, had lived in anger and blood and death for twenty-two years, that when he found his son, the fact that he had accepted him and refrained from killing him was a miracle in itself. He knew it could not happen; Luke must not die. He had to keep him alive. The only way to do that, of course, was to turn him, to show him true power, what he must do. 

But that...that was not what Luke was used to. That was not Luke’s idea of a father; for now that Vader had spoken to someone, an ordinary woman, living in an ordinary world, he saw...he saw the world in which Luke had lived for twenty-two years. A world in which fathers did not have to worry about having to kill their sons; a world in which sons could be allowed to do whatever they wanted, without having to worry about the overhanging doom of Destiny; a world in which everything was not dead and worthless and broken. No wonder Luke had expected a father who cared. A father who loved him.

But he could not be that father. 

It burned at him, it threatened to destroy his already blackened soul, but...he could _not_ be that father. The best he could do was to turn him, to do the bare minimum of what it meant to be a parent. 

A _parent._ Even the word was alien to him. 

“I…I cannot.” The words tasted like ash in his mouth, but he spoke them anyway. “I cannot be the ordinary idea of a father to him.” 

“And why not?” Jobal demanded. 

“Because--” He had not had this trouble with words in years. It was easier when everyone thought he would kill them for a trivial mistake. “Because _I am a Sith,_ and if he does not turn within three days he will _die!_ ” 

There. He had said it. 

Jobal looked, for once, stunned. “He will die. He is ill?”

“No.” This, too, was difficult to say. “The Emperor will have him killed. And do not _dare_ to accuse _him,_ because after _her death,_ he gave me life. He was all that I had, he was all that kept me alive, so do not accuse him or I will _leave!_ ” 

“I won’t do it, then, if you insist on being so petty.” 

“I am _not--_ ” 

“I will say one thing to you, before you completely lose your head and decide my time has come.” Jobal pursed her lips. “You have one great skill... _Lord Vader,_ and it is this. You have grown adept at self-denial. So adept, in fact, that you could win an award.” 

“Do not _jest,_ woman,” Vader snarled. 

“And where you are not skilled is in your ability to take a joke,” she went on. “But I digress. You are very, very good at denial: of yourself, of your actions, of others’ actions, of everything. And I see now that I cannot change that...that now, much as I hate to admit it, there is hardly a glimpse of the boy who had once pledged to be my daughter’s protector.” Now the smile was gone; a look of indescribable sadness crossed Jobal’s face, and despite his anger, Vader could not bring himself to snap at her for that. “But if I could change anything, it would be your relationship with Luke. I have not met the boy; but I have heard Sola’s tales of him, Ruya’s tales, and from what I hear, he is a very sweet, loving, and honorable young man, certainly undeserving of a father like _you.”_

He knew that. Of course he knew that; he had known it every day since learning that Luke was his son, and he didn’t need her to tell him. 

“Get to the _point,_ ” he demanded. 

“Very well,” she said coolly. “I will tell you that you have committed many sins in your life; we needn’t go into what you did to Padme, never mind anything since. The galaxy calls you a monster and you deserve it. But the worst sin of all is that you have failed to obey your basic ethical duty as a father.” 

He was almost afraid to hear it; after everything she had said so far, he did not want to hear it. But he knew he could not stop her from saying it. 

“Which _is?_ ” he growled. 

Jobal’s expression grew soft. “To love your son more than yourself.” 

No words had ever been so biting, no pain so terrible, no torment so heartrending as the torment those seven words delivered. Vader knew he had failed in this; he knew it every day. But he had never heard it phrased in such a way. And he despised it. 

Because for once, Jobal was wrong. 

He had not been able to show Luke that he loved him; he had not been able to give Luke what he wanted; he had been cruel and demanding. He still was cruel and demanding; it was the Sith way. In all appearances, to anyone who happened to watch, never knowing the torment that plagued him every day, he did not love his son. 

But he loved himself far less. 

Somehow, she did know; how could she know? But she did not know that there was no man across the galaxy, no monster of darkness, no wretched creature that Vader hated as much as himself. 

So for once, he said what he was thinking. 

“You are wrong,” he told Jobal. “I cannot tell you why, but you are wrong.” 

She smiled at him. It was a smile of challenge. 

“Then prove it,” she said softly. 

  
  


“I’m entering in the password now,” came the quiet voice from the other end; still there, still breathing. “Can you repeat it again, so I’ve got it in my head?”

“Of course.” For the last five minutes, Piett’s eyes hadn’t left the black screens. He wanted to see where that blasted dragon was the _moment_ the power came back on. “TiC.” 

Out of nowhere, his brain supplied _Titanium Carbide._

“T...i...C. Okay.” 

“LiCl.” 

_Lithium Chloride._

“L...i…C, L. Got it.” 

“KCl.” 

_Potassium Chloride._ Piett had not studied science in a long time, not since graduate school; after that he’d gone straight to working for the Empire. But as his studies had been _preparing_ him for military service, he had learned quite a bit about weapons, armor, and how to invent them. Just in case it ever came in handy, he’d been told. 

And he remembered that lithium chloride and potassium chloride together, at a temperature of four hundred and fifty degrees, created lithium metal. 

That was only part of the password. 

The other...titanium carbide…

“Firmus! Five, right?”

“Sorry. Yes, five. Make sure it’s the number, not the word.”

“All right. Entering it now.” 

Piett continued to think. Titanium carbide was used to make durasteel materials highly resistant to any kind of penetration...and why was it combined with the other two? With lithium metal? It had to be intentional, there was no way it wasn't. It had something to do with the scientists. 

What did it _mean?_

Piett didn’t know, but he was sure that it also had something to do with the dragons. 

“Max,” he said sharply. “Max, finish up!” 

“I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying. It’s asking for confirmation, let me just--”

Piett clenched a fist. He wished he knew what it meant; if only he could find one of those scientists, he could ask. But then, most of them were dead anyway.

That reminded him. 

“Max,” he said again, fully aware that he sounded nervous; he could feel ashamed afterwards. “Get out of there.” 

“Finished.” 

Piett took a step back, studying the screens; for a moment, nothing happened. The room was still deathly silent, utterly pitch black; there was not even another scratching sound from Veers’ end. 

_Please work, please work…_

Piett held his breath and counted. One...two…

He gasped and stumbled backward. 

Lights had begun to flash. 

  
  


After half an hour, Doctor Alvi returned to look at the wound and attempt to stitch it up, _attempt_ being the key word. Thanks to the bacta patches, both gashes had already begun to close; but while the smaller gash could be stitched up, the second could not. 

“It is still too wide,” he said, shaking his head. “You will simply have to change the bandages every day.” He shook his head. “If the situation were better, I would keep you here for two weeks, but as it is we may only hold you for one night. If, that is…” He glanced toward the door. 

“No,” Luke said firmly. “I’ll make sure we’re out of here tomorrow.” 

Alvi let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” 

For the stitching of the first wound, Luke was given anesthesia to put him out; despite his objections, Alvi told him the experience would be uncomfortable at least, painful at most. So he obliged the doctor’s request and allowed himself to be knocked unconscious. 

When he opened his eyes, Sola Naberrie was sitting next to him. 

Luke wanted to be embarrassed--he had no idea if she’d been watching the entire procedure or not--but he was drowsy from the effects of the anesthesia, and he didn’t have the energy to say anything much. 

“Hi,” he managed to croak out.

“Hi,” Sola said with a chuckle. “In case you’re wondering, everything went well. Doctor Alvi told me the gash they were able to stitch up shouldn’t give you any trouble, as long as you don’t, ah, run.” 

“That’s going to be a problem,” Luke said wryly, “given the events of the past three days.” 

“Maybe.” Sola looked down at his leg, which, as Luke saw, was freshly bandaged. “Alvi put a specific kind of bandage there; I think it might have some bacta in it. He put more there, at the end of the bed. Enough for a week.” 

“Hmm,” Luke said noncommittally. The ice had been removed from his chest and leg, but already, it was easier to breathe, and the ankle didn’t hurt as much. “He’s a good doctor.” 

“He is.” Sola smiled. “He’s taken good care of you, given the...circumstances.” 

_Good care of you._ It was just a statement, but Luke sensed something there. She...she cared about him, he realized, and wondered why he hadn’t seen it before. She had only known him for a few hours, but already she seemed determined to keep Vader away from him, to make sure his wound was taken care of...it reminded him of someone, of his experience with someone from long ago. 

Obi-Wan. 

That was it; Sola’s attitude toward him suggested that she had known him for many years, even though they had just met. Obi-Wan--who he had known as Ben all the time, and still thought of as, if he was being honest--had acted the same, going into the Jundland Wastes to save him, wandering by his home…

“What is it?” Sola asked him quietly. 

Luke decided to tell her everything he was thinking. Maybe she could help him; but besides that, he liked her. Maybe it would also lead to her keeping an awful secret from him, too, he thought bitterly, but that was no excuse for a lack of decency. 

“You know me,” he said. “Don’t you?” 

A thousand emotions flew across Sola’s face, and through her mind, but Luke was able to pick out the few that mattered. 

Sadness. 

Eagerness. 

Reluctance. 

Anger. 

“You don’t have to talk to me about it,” he said quickly, “if you don’t want to.” 

“Don’t have to--” Sola closed her eyes briefly. “Of course I do, when it’s phrased like _that._ So much has been kept from you, Luke.” 

Yes, she _definitely_ knew him. 

But beyond that, that statement, such a perfect summary, of what he’d had to deal with, twisted the knife of that awful revelation in his gut and made him want to break down again. But he didn’t. 

“How,” he said. “How do you know me?”

“I…” Sola looked up, and then down again, as if she were trying to figure out what to say. “This might take a...a little bit of an explanation. And it might...be...painful for me to say. And for you to hear.” She sighed, sadness filling her eyes as she looked at him. “You deserve to hear it.” 

Another lump in his throat. With difficulty, Luke swallowed it. 

“Thank you,” he said simply. 

“I…” Sola looked toward the door, down at her hands, and then back up at him. “I know something, Luke. Something about you.” 

Panic shot through him instantly. She’d found out recently, somehow--she’d met him and liked him, then found out who his father was--now she hated him--

“I knew this already,” Sola added quickly. “When I met you.” 

Luke’s panic fled, and his shoulders slumped in relief. 

Sola looked back at the door, pulled her chair nearer to the bed, and leaned in very close. Her face was inches from his, her brown eyes full of determination; Ruya’s eyes, but also Leia’s eyes. Somehow those were Leia’s eyes. 

“I know who your father is,” Sola whispered. 

Luke did a double take. So she did know. 

_Someone else knew._ Someone else besides Obi-Wan and Vader, someone he could _talk_ to. He wanted to cry.

“You know,” he said, “you know Vader is--” 

He couldn’t say it. 

Sola nodded, tears in her eyes. “I know. And I am _sorry,_ Luke, I am so unbelievably sorry that he is.” She put a hand on his arm. “It’s awful, for a number of reasons.” 

Luke bowed his head, not wanting her to see if he cried. 

“And I’m about to tell you one of them.”

Luke’s head snapped back up. 

“What are you talking about?” he asked carefully. 

“I…” Sola sighed, wiping a tear from her eye. “This is the hard part, for me. It’s personal. But you need to know.” She took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. “I know who your mother was.” 

Luke stared at her, unable to believe his ears. Of all the things he’d thought she would say, he hadn’t imagined--he’d believed no one knew who his mother had been, he knew Vader would never--

Part of him had wondered if he even had a mother. After all, who would love a Sith Lord? 

What if Vader had just...created him out of the Force? 

But now he had just received proof of the opposite. He had had a mother, and Sola knew who it had been. 

He also knew, by the use of the past tense, that she had died. 

But he still needed to know. 

“Who was she?” Suddenly all effects of the anesthesia had left him. “And how did you know her? And what was she like? And--” 

“Oh, I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you all of it.” Sola smiled, but it was bittersweet. “Your mother was the most selfless woman in the world; obviously you got that from her.”

Luke grinned. To know something, _anything_ about his mother, was more than he had ever dreamed of.

“I knew you’d be happy to hear that,” Sola said. “Her name was--”

Lights. 

Sola stopped speaking, and Luke looked around in alarm. Lights had begun to flash; brilliant lights, red and blue and yellow, throughout the room. Outside, alarms were going off. 

“What in the world…?” Sola trailed off. 

Lights...alarms...it could only mean one thing, Luke realized in horror. 

“The power,” he said aloud. 

Sola frowned. “What?”

“The power!” he repeated, grabbing her arm in terror. “The power’s coming back on, and Vader’s going to take me off the planet!” 

Sola’s eyes blew wide. Immediately, she stood up. 

“We have to get you out of here,” she said. “Here, let me help you walk.” 

“No time,” Luke said, carefully swinging his legs off the bed. “He’ll come straight here. You have to go, get back to your family--tell him I’ve gone the other way. Hopefully…” Luke sighed. “Hopefully he won’t kill you.” 

“Oh, he won’t do that,” Sola said grimly. “If he didn’t kill Ruya, he won’t kill me. Are you sure you can walk on your own?”

“Yeah,” Luke said, storing the rest of that sentence away for later. 

“No, you can’t.” Sola threw open the supply closet, grabbed a crutch, and practically threw it at him. “Use this.” Quickly, she helped him to his feet; and then, to his utter shock, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Now, go!” 

  
  


“ _Prove it,_ ” Vader echoed. “I cannot do that.” 

“And why not?” Jobal challenged him. “Why can it be so hard to show your son that you love him? Tell me why I am wrong about you, and I may change my opinion.” 

“You cannot understand,” Vader said. In truth, he did not _want_ to tell her, did not want her to know the depth of his agony; he could not bear to have her call him the ‘murderer of her daughter’ again. “But know that you are wrong.” 

“Then show him. Show him that you love him.” 

“I am doing it,” Vader snapped, “the best way that I know--”

“No, you are not!” Jobal exclaimed; and by some miracle, Ruya did not wake. “Sola told me enough, and I know that that boy deserves it. Show him that you love him; give him, in some part, what he wants.” 

“I told you, woman, I _cannot!_ ”

“Why?” she demanded. 

_Because I do not know how._

“Because--” He wanted to say it; but he was afraid of what she would say in response. “Because I cannot.” 

Dejected, Jobal sank down on the bed, looking weaker than she had before. Then she was silent. 

“There is something there,” she said at last. “Something of your old self. I can see it; you almost spoke your mind to me now. Something is there...but it is almost gone.” She sighed. “And it may be too far gone to come back.” 

“I do not _approve,_ ” Vader said harshly, “of your accusations that--”

“This conversation will continue endlessly like this,” she said, cutting him off, “and I am growing weary. So I have one thing left to say.” 

Despite himself, he was curious. 

“When Luke has become a Sith,” she said softly, “and his life and humanity and personality have been stripped from him...remember my words.” 

Fury raged through him, fury beyond everything he had ever known, because she was _wrong,_ because she dared to assume what she did not know; and in that moment, regardless of his connection to her, he was ready to kill her. 

And then lights began to flash, all through the hospital. 

The power was coming back on. 

At once, his fury left him, replaced by determination and the faintest stirrings of joy; finally, he could take Luke to the _Executor._ If he hurried. 

Without another word, he turned toward the door. 

“Vader,” Jobal called behind him, but he ignored her. “Vader! _Anakin!_ ” 

Half out the door, he turned back. Jobal was _smiling._

 _Victory,_ her eyes seemed to say. He wanted to snap her neck. 

But those eyes...were _her eyes._

“So you do answer to that name,” she said softly. “Very interesting.” 

He despised the fact that he couldn’t kill her. At that point, it would have been the most satisfying thing in the world. 

With a snarl, Vader stormed out of the room. 

  
  


The power was coming back on.

“It’s working,” Piett said, “it’s working, Max! Now…” He watched the screens; they still had not come back on. “Don’t move.” 

“Got it,” Veers said. 

Piett waited with bated breath, watching the thirty-two screens, as the lights continued to flicker wildly; and then, one of them came on. And then another, and another. He searched them eagerly, hunting for one that would show where Veers was...and at last he found it. 

_LL Corridor 12,_ it read. 

Nothing. 

There was nothing outside but...but a walking stick. 

“A walking stick,” Piett said out loud; and then he laughed, beyond relieved. “It’s only a walking stick, Max, it must have fallen over and kept bouncing against the floor!” 

“And that’s what was causing the scratching sound,” Veers said, sounding as relieved as Piett felt. “Head back out to the turbolift. I’ll meet you there.” 

The lights continued to flash, faster and faster across the room, and across the entire facility, and the hospital. They were everywhere. They were beginning to make his head hurt; but Piett didn’t care. They had succeeded. 

“Well, Max,” he said, “looks like we’re back in business.” 

Behind him, there was a low, drawn out hiss. 

Very slowly, putting one hand on his blaster, Piett turned around. 

The lights stopped flickering, and the dragon that had been behind him the whole time stood up to its full height. 

  
  


Somehow, Luke had made it to the turbolift. He sensed Vader’s determination in the Force, but the Sith hadn’t come immediately; he didn’t know why. He only knew that the power was completely back on, and he had to get out of the hospital _now_. 

“Luke!” He jumped as someone grabbed his arm and almost fell; but it was Aphra. “Come on, I’m getting you to my ship.” 

“Thanks,” Luke gasped, already exhausted from his walk across the sixth floor. “Vader’s coming, I don’t know how--”

“I already sent Pandaki out there,” Aphra explained. “What did you think we were doing this whole time? He’s going to get my ship. By the time we get down there, he’ll be there.” 

“You’re--you’re a lifesaver.” They had reached the turbolift; Luke hit the button that would take them down. “You know, I think the Rebels would take you. If you asked.” 

“Nuh-uh, Skywalker. I only work for myself.” 

“Sure,” he said skeptically. 

“Thanks for the offer, though,” she said with a grin. 

Luke grinned back. “My pleasure.” 

He looked over his shoulder; Sola was hurrying towards their room, and just around the corner, Vader was opening the door. 

Luke’s heart leaped into his throat. 

_Stop,_ he begged the Force. _Make him stop…_

Miraculously, Vader did stop; he was turning back, to look at...something. What had he been _doing_ there? Why was he--

The turbolift pinged. No time to find out. 

“Well, this is close,” Aphra said. “This’ll be the closest shave you’ve ever had, if we get out of this one.” 

Luke chuckled, although it hurt his ribs. “The closest? I kind of doubt that.” 

The lift slid open, and Luke and Aphra froze in horror. 

Doctor Alvi lay on the floor of the turbolift. 

And two Canyon krayt dragons were devouring him alive. 

" _Shit!"_ Aphra screamed. "RUN!" 

The dragons looked up, noticed Luke and Aphra, and let out two identical cries. 

And then, without a moment’s hesitation, they lunged. 

**END OF PART ONE**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The main song for this chapter is "The Show Must Go On" by Queen, and it's also where the title comes from; it seemed to fit both Luke and Vader's issues for this chapter. Other songs were Soldier by Fleurie, the Stranger Things soundtrack(really good for creepy, walking-in-the-dark scenes), and the Invisible Man soundtrack.  
> For the specific chapter title line:  
> "I guess I'm learning  
> I must be warmer now  
> I'll soon be turning, round the corner now  
> Outside the dawn is breaking  
> But inside in the dark I'm aching to be free." 
> 
> Also, now that we've got part one done, I will be taking a short break to focus on some other fics and get my life in order. This fast updating schedule has been really fun, and I've been glad to give this to you guys during the COVID-19 crisis, but life has gotten more intense, it will give me time to flesh out part two of the story, AND I would like to get started on some other ideas! I could be back anywhere from a couple weeks to a month. And for a final note, if I don't update before Star Wars Day...  
> May The Fourth Be With You!


	26. Interlude: The Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we return to the Alliance to see what Leia's been up to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhhh I'M BACK! It was a longer break than I'd anticipated, but I wanted to make some good progress on my new fic Binary Accretion, and then...some stuff came up that I did not expect, and I didn't feel like writing for a while. But here it is! I've written this and plotted out as much as I can figure out of the second half, so while updates will not be as fast as in part one, you probably won't have to wait over a month in-between chapters. Thank you all for waiting patiently; I know I left you on an AWFUL cliffhanger, muahaha.
> 
> Speaking of the cliffhanger: unfortunately we're not going right back to the main group, but I left Leia out of the picture for the longest time, we need to see what she's been up to, and many of the things in the chapter will be hugely important for future chapters to come. So, consider this like an "interlude" between parts one and two.  
> Thanks to Kae as always for beta'ing! She's the best.

_ “Luke!”  _

_ She is standing in a long hallway.  _

_ “Ruya! Ruya, where are you?”  _

_ White, there’s white all around, too sparse and clean. White, like the deceptively beautiful halls of Cloud City, except...not. These are the halls of a laboratory; an  _ old  _ laboratory, judging by the marks on the walls, the old tiling, but a laboratory all the same.  _

_ Where  _ is  _ she? _

_ “Ruya!” Who’s Ruya?  _

_ And that sounds like Luke...Luke is coming… _

Luke. 

_ “Luke!” she shouts, running forward, her feet skidding through the white corridor. “Luke!”  _

_ “Ruya!” is all she gets for a response. He can’t hear her.  _

_ “Luke!” screams the girl’s voice, once more, and it’s right next to her. She turns to look, and there next to her is an unmarked door.  _

_ She takes the handle to enter it, but it won’t open.  _

_ Luke won’t be able to open it. He doesn’t know that.  _

_ “Luke!” she shouts, one more time. “Luke, can you hear me? The door--” _

_ Then he screams.  _

_ She’s running immediately, before she can think about it; especially because, as soon as it starts, the scream is cut off in a choking sound. She can’t run fast enough, Luke is in pain--she has to get to him-- _

_ She skids round a corner, and stops.  _

_ There he is, kneeling on the floor, missing a hand; missing both hands. Darth Vader is standing over him, two lightsabers ignited, red and blue.  _

_ “No!” she screams. “Get away from him!”  _

_ But Vader doesn’t hear her. Neither of them do.  _

_ She can only watch.  _

_ “No,” Luke whimpers, trying to scramble backwards. “Ruya…” _

_ “She is worthless,” Vader declares. “You must let her die.”  _

_ “No!” There are tears streaming down his face, and she can’t handle it any longer. Vader is  _ tormenting  _ him-- _

_ Vader raises both blades… _

_ “No! Luke!” She runs forward, somehow jumping right in front of Vader--he doesn’t move--reaching for Luke-- _

_ As she touches him, his body turns to smoke in her hands.  _

_ She is left with only darkness.  _

_ “Luke!” she screams. “LUKE!”  _

_ She spins around, ready to kill Vader, to murder him...but he is gone as well. The screams are silenced; not even the little girl can be heard.  _

_ And in the distance comes the sound of claws scrabbling against the walls, and feral hisses, and the roars of monsters.  _

_ Coming for her.  _

  
  


Leia Organa woke with a gasp. 

Everything was dark, and for several seconds she was confused. Where was she? What had happened?

_ The monsters,  _ whispered a voice in her head.  _ They’re coming-- _

No. No, that had only been a dream, and as she realized that, she got her breathing under control. It wasn’t real. It was just a dream. 

A terrible dream...one in which Luke had been in danger…

She hadn’t been able to do anything…

Damn, she thought these nightmares had been  _ over.  _

With a groan, Leia buried her head in her hands. She knew it wasn’t real, she knew Luke wasn’t really in that kind of trouble, but...all the same...

_ “Why did you come after us? You shouldn’t have.”  _

_ “I...I had a vision. In the Force. I saw you and Han in pain and I...I had to…I’m so sorry.”  _

Leia stilled. 

Had that been a vision? Had she somehow seen something that was happening to Luke? 

But how would that be possible at all? She wasn’t a Jedi. 

And yet…

No. She couldn’t think about that now. There was no sense in trying to figure something out that she didn’t understand. She wouldn’t get anywhere until she knew more. 

What she  _ could  _ do was focus on what she knew for certain. 

And for that to happen, she had to get up. What she wanted to do was lie in bed all morning--she had  _ not  _ been getting enough sleep recently--but there was nothing for it. 

With a long sigh, Leia forced herself to move, swinging her legs out of bed and putting a hand to her aching head. There she sat, on the edge of the bed, for at least a minute while she gathered her thoughts. 

What she had seen was either a vision or a nightmare; while she had no idea how she could even be capable of having a vision, she couldn’t dwell on it now. Although, Luke had said he didn’t even understand the Force; maybe he was in enough danger that it had sent itself to her…

That made no sense. 

_ Focus, Organa,  _ she told herself fiercely.  _ List the facts. What do you know? _

Leia took a deep breath. What did she know?

She knew that Luke had been gone three days and two nights, which was too long. He’d promised to return as soon as he’d found out about Han...and he had never reported to her on that. Not directly, at least. 

She knew that Luke was almost as reckless as Han, but that he would never let her go without knowing the facts...especially after Bespin. She didn’t know where it had come from, but suddenly he’d been determined for her to know  _ everything,  _ that Command inform her about all the details, that she not be kept in the dark about anything. If something was wrong at all, he would have told her. 

So, for him not to tell her...something was  _ really  _ wrong. 

She knew that “the thing he’d asked her to do,” as told to her by Wedge, had failed, meaning that he had not found Han. But that could mean anything. It could mean that Han  _ was  _ on the planet, but Luke needed help rescuing him. It could mean Luke was about to...no, he wouldn’t turn himself in in exchange for Han. Even Luke wouldn’t be  _ that  _ stupid…

_ No,  _ Leia thought,  _ I wouldn’t put that past him.  _

So...there was that. Or, as a final possibility--the one that was probably the most likely--Han wasn’t on the planet. Either Fett had never been there, or he’d taken off before they arrived. 

But then...why hadn’t Luke returned? What reason would he have to stay?

It had to be something bad. Something  _ really, really  _ bad. Luke had promised her he would return. If he hadn’t…

_ What if he was dead? _

Leia cut that idea off as soon as she thought it. No. Luke was  _ not  _ dead. She’d just had that vision, and Luke had been  _ in it.  _ He was alive, she’d felt it. 

She didn’t know how, but she knew that he was alive. Because of...the nightmare, or the vision. Whatever it was. 

_ The vision.  _

The  _ monsters.  _

Leia’s throat tightened. Luke might not be dead  _ now,  _ but if anything she’d seen was real, it meant that he was in danger. From Vader, possibly; all reports said that the  _ Executor  _ was nowhere near Felucia, but she wouldn’t put it past him. 

But beyond Vader, beyond the threat that they had both grown to fear over the past weeks and months and years, beyond the monster that had hunted Luke like a dog...there were other monsters. She hadn’t seen them, but she’d heard them. 

They were coming for Luke. 

At least,  _ if the dream was to be trusted… _

Leia groaned. She couldn’t figure this out. She couldn’t figure anything out--

A sudden banging sound jolted Leia out her thoughts; someone was knocking on her door. 

_ What time  _ is  _ it?  _ she wondered, feeling slightly grumpy at the thought. She wasn’t awake enough to see anyone, especially not with what she was trying to think through; but it couldn’t be helped. After putting on a robe, she took a long drink, walked to the door, and opened it. 

Standing in the hall, to her surprise, was Lando Calrissian. 

“Lando,” she said, trying to look more awake. “What’s going on?” 

“I should ask you the same question,” he said. “Where have you been?”

Leia frowned.  _ Where had she been?  _ Didn’t he know what they’d been working toward, every day, for almost an entire month? Hadn’t he been sleepless over it, as much as her, and as much as Luke? 

“Where have I  _ been?”  _ The words came out more sharply than she’d intended, but she didn’t much care. “Where do you think? I thought we had a good lead, I thought Han would be on Felucia, and he’s  _ not,  _ so what do you think I’ve been doing? With every day that goes by, we have less of a chance of finding him, and now Luke’s gone as well.” She folded her arms. “And I thought you  _ wanted  _ me to find Han. Without Luke--”

“Would you listen to me for one second?”

Leia blinked. Maybe she’d been too harsh--she had also just woken up--but she didn’t think she’d ever heard Lando be this sharp. 

She arched an eyebrow. “All right.” 

“This is  _ about  _ Luke,” he said. 

_ About Luke.  _ That could mean anything. It could mean he’d found Han, it could mean he was in trouble, it could mean he was  _ dead.  _ Leia was flooded immediately by many emotions: surprise, shame for what she’d said to Lando, curiosity, excitement--but the largest one by far was  _ fear.  _

“What about him?” she demanded. “Is he all right? Did he find Han?”

“I have no idea,” Lando said. “But...the problem is, none of us knew where you were. I thought you were with Command, Wedge hadn’t seen you since you ran off to question that bounty hunter last night; we had no idea you were still sleeping.” 

“Yes,” she said crisply, “I was up extremely late, and my search yielded  _ no  _ results. What did you want to tell me?”

“Well, Luke…” Lando rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s been trying to contact you.” 

“Trying to contact me?” Oh, this was her fault, she’d been searching so hard for answers, and she’d missed him completely. She should have waited until she knew where he was, she knew she should have waited. “How...how long ago was this?” 

“An hour,” Lando replied. “But--”

“I need to call him.” Leia turned around, reaching for her comlink--an  _ hour.  _ It wasn’t much time, but if her dream had some bearing on the situation, anything could have happened to him in that time. “I can’t believe I--”

“No, no, that won’t work.” Lando took several steps into the room. “You can’t call him.” 

“I can’t  _ call him _ ?” Leia spun on him furiously, the comlink clutched in her hand. “And why not?”

“Because he’s not using his number.” Leia had no idea how Lando was staying so calm; usually, anyone she snapped at like that would have known to back off. “I don’t know where he’s speaking from; we can’t trace it.” 

“Speaking.” That seemed to hint that-- “He sent a message?”

Lando nodded. “Through one of the Artoo units.”

A message. That meant that, for now, Luke  _ was  _ alive. 

“What did he say?” she asked, dropping the comlink. “How is he?”

“That’s…” Lando sighed. “That’s the problem. We don’t know.” 

Leia rolled her eyes, frustrated beyond belief. “Oh, just tell me the whole truth!” 

“I would, if you’d stop interrupting,” Lando said, slightly sharper this time. 

Leia almost snapped at him again; then, she stopped. She was tired and cranky, she probably wasn’t thinking straight yet, she was mentally exhausted...and Lando didn’t deserve it. 

So, instead, she took a deep breath. “Sorry.” 

Now it was Lando’s turn to look surprised, as if he hadn’t expected it. “It’s all right.” He sighed. “But, as for why we don’t know what Luke said...it’s because the message is for you, and you alone. The droid won’t let anyone else hear it.” 

_ Now  _ it made sense, and now Leia’s worry returned. If the message was only for her...Luke must have some pretty sensitive information. 

“All right,” she said. “Where’s the droid?” 

“Right here,” Lando said with a smile. “He wouldn’t stop following me around, demanding to see you…” He whistled. “R7! Where are you?”

With a whistle that sounded much like Artoo, a little yellow droid wheeled into Leia’s room. This droid was also one who she knew, she realized; it had been trained for military protocol, among other things. 

_ No wonder it’s so protective of this recording,  _ she thought. 

Upon sight of Leia, the droid let out a happy little shriek and rolled right up to her, bumping her in the legs. 

“Hello,” she said with a laugh. “Sorry you couldn’t find me sooner.” 

The droid let out a  _ blat  _ that was probably a scolding. Leia ignored it; she’d received far worse from Artoo over the years. 

“I hear you have a message for me,” she said, bending down on the droid’s level. “Can I see it?” 

Unfortunately, Lando was still there. Before Leia could prepare, the droid spun around, almost knocking her over, and spewed a series of blats and beeps into his face.

“All right, all right, I’m going!” Lando raised his hands, backing away quickly towards the door, and only then did the droid seem satisfied. “Leia, go to the pilots’ barracks when you’re done. Wedge and I…” His expression softened. “We want to know what’s going on with Luke.” 

Leia nodded. “I will.” 

Slowly, with a final glance back at Leia and the droid, Lando left the room; the door shut firmly behind him. In an instant, R7 had turned back to her, whistling happily. 

“Yes, I know you got your way,” Leia said, slightly irritated. “But there was no need to be rude.” 

Another blat from the droid, and Leia decided she’d better change the subject.

“Well, then,” she said briskly. “Where’s this message?” 

The droid whistled an affirmative, and something whirred inside it; and then, a moment later, a blue light flared, and a hologram exploded to life in front of her. 

Luke. 

“Uh...hi, Leia,” he said. 

He sounded rough, uncertain, and the weariest Leia had heard him sound since Bespin; but it was  _ Luke.  _ He was alive. 

Leia’s heart caught in her throat. “Pause the recording.” 

The hologram froze, just as Luke looked down, maybe preparing to say what came next. Leia took the opportunity to look at him, to examine him, to remind herself that all hope was not lost; the latter was somehow much easier to do when she was looking at Luke. 

He was sitting down on something; from what she could see of the hologram, it looked like some kind of bed. She couldn’t see his left leg...was he injured? If so, it wasn’t just the leg. There were several scrapes and bruises on his face, and the look of absolute exhaustion in his eyes told her that something was  _ really  _ wrong. 

_ The monsters… _

“Droid,” Leia said, trying to keep the panic--and the relief, oh, the  _ relief  _ at seeing him alive--out of her voice. “Play the recording.” 

R7 whistled, and Luke’s message resumed. 

“I’m…” Luke faltered for a moment, his eyes still downcast; then he looked up, right at her. In his eyes there was endless sorrow. “First of all, I need to apologize. For everything. For the things I’m going to say to you later, but...I’m especially sorry for not coming back. I got...tied up with things on Felucia. Han is…”

He hesitated.  _ Please don’t let him be with Jabba, please don’t... _

“Han isn’t anywhere on Felucia,” Luke said, and Leia’s heart sank. “He’s probably in Jabba’s clutches by now. I’m really sorry, I--”

Suddenly Luke stopped, his eyes darting away; he flinched. Leia leaned forward in concern, but nothing else happened. After a few seconds, Luke turned back to her. 

However, that was just more proof that something was going on. 

“I...I didn’t expect any of this,” he said, and somehow, Leia got the feeling that at long last, she was going to find out what was happening on Felucia. “Because, uh, it turns out that the scientists aren’t gone. And this is confidential, you can’t tell  _ anyone,  _ but…”

_ Come on. Just say it.  _

“But they created dragons.” 

_ Dragons.  _

The monsters. 

Leia’s eyes blew wide. 

  
  


Resurrected krayt dragons. A child; Ruya, the girl she’d seen in...in the dream. And Darth Vader. 

And the last part, it seemed, was the worst of it. 

Leia just wished she knew what exactly had happened at Bespin. Because whatever Luke was going through, Vader’s presence...had made everything worse. He was  _ really  _ rattled. 

And, apparently, Vader was trying to take him off the planet. 

“I don’t want to leave with him, Leia,” Luke was saying, his voice a whisper. “I don’t want--I don’t want to--” Luke took another breath, and Leia’s heart  _ ached;  _ she wanted to be with him, more than anything in the world. He needed her help. “Sorry, it’s--it’s just been a long few days. I wish you were here with me.” 

_ So do I, Luke.  _

Luke didn’t say anything for a few seconds; he seemed to be hesitating. There was something he really wanted to tell her, Leia understood that much; something that was  _ begging  _ to be out of him. He was just trying to decide whether to say it.

_ You can tell me,  _ she wanted to tell him.  _ You can tell me, Luke. It’s  _ me!

“I can’t go with him, Leia,” Luke said, after taking another breath. “I can’t. Because of the usual reasons, obviously; I’d be away from the Rebellion, you’d be alone, we have to find Han, but--but there’s something else--”

He stopped. 

He wanted to say it. 

Whatever it was, he wanted to say it more than anything in the world; his lip was trembling, tears beginning to stream down his face, and Leia wanted to pull him out of that hologram and into real life, wanted to hug him until all his fears went away, wanted to  _ kill  _ Vader for making him feel like this--because it all had to do with Vader, she could guess that much--wanted to get the truth out of him, make him realize that no secret would be too large and traumatic for her, that she was there for him--

But she couldn’t. It was a hologram. 

Luke wasn’t saying anything, but she could see him working through the problem, struggling with the huge dilemma on his mind; he closed his eyes, clenched his fist, cried silently. She was sure he wasn’t aware he was crying; he would never have wanted her to see that. 

Telling her was what he wanted. It would help him. She knew that much. 

Then,  _ why wouldn’t he? _

Luke’s mouth moved, and she thought he’d said something; but she heard nothing. He hadn’t spoken. 

_ Tell me. Dammit, Luke, just tell me!  _

As if he’d heard her, Luke opened his eyes. He took a deep breath and smiled, but it looked forced. 

He was going to lie. Leia clenched her fists. 

“It’s the Force,” Luke said at last. “He...he doesn’t want to kill me, now that he knows I’m…” Another hesitation. She wished he’d tell her. “I’m the son of Anakin Skywalker, and he wants to use me to help destroy all of you. You have to save me. I’ve never begged you for anything before; never since Bespin. But I think...you and Lando need to come save me, with the  _ Falcon.  _ You have to, or I’ll be taken off to the  _ Executor.  _ And I...the power might come back on any minute. I don’t know how much time I have left.” 

This had been an hour ago. 

_ Why  _ had she been so busy with trying to find Han? 

Luke was hesitating again, trying to decide; this was it. This had to be it. He was going to cave, he was going to tell her.  _ This  _ was why the message was only for her, and she’d carry this secret to the grave. Anything for him. 

Then, Luke sighed. 

“Help me, Leia,” he said, his voice shaking; she wanted to be with him, wanted to see him so badly. He was crying in earnest now, tears wetting his cheeks; and, she realized, so was she. “You’re my only hope.” 

Leia’s heart stopped. He’d just repeated what she…

She reached out, as if she could touch him, reached for his hand; and at that moment, the hologram faded. 

“No,” she said desperately, turning to look at the droid. “That can’t be all there is! That can’t be the end!” 

But the droid just beeped at her and rolled away. 

No. No, no, no, that wasn’t it, that wasn’t all; he hadn’t told her. Why not? He’d always told her everything. She’d accepted that he wouldn’t after Bespin, not immediately; she’d given him time, remembering all too well how she’d had to keep from even thinking about what had happened in cell 2187 on the Death Star, how she’d somehow  _ felt  _ her father die, that talking about it only made it worse. She knew all that, so she’d given him space. 

But now, this thing he’d kept from telling her...it was so obviously important, it clearly had to do with just  _ why  _ Darth Vader wanted Luke to join him...and yet, it was terrible enough that he couldn’t tell her. 

And he might never be able to, because he might be either taken prisoner or killed by these...krayt dragons. She’d never know. 

He needed her help. 

He needed her...but how? How was she supposed to help him? Even if she got to Felucia, how was she going to find where he was on the entire planet? 

How did she know that he was still alive? First Han, now Luke--

At the thought, Leia felt panic start to well up in her chest, and she clenched her fists, forcing herself to get a handle on her emotions. She couldn’t think like this, but it was so hard when she was so  _ alone,  _ when she had nothing but the thoughts in her own head to turn to. 

And beyond the panic, there was also an overwhelming desire to murder Darth Vader. She knew she wasn’t likely to get far with that, but she didn’t care. He happened to be the reason that both of her friends were gone, he was the reason that Luke had been almost outright crying in the recording, and she wanted him  _ dead.  _

But again...she wouldn’t be the one to do it. She wasn’t strong enough.

It was so difficult, not having Luke’s abilities. What she wouldn’t give to be a Jedi. It would be so wonderful to grab a lightsaber and stick it through Vader’s chest for everything he’d done--

But even Luke didn’t have that luxury. 

_ “I wouldn’t need my lightsaber anyway because they’re useless. They’re absolutely useless, these things are...they’re like nothing I’ve ever seen.”  _

He’d looked so terrified. Luke Skywalker, the destroyer of the Death Star, who would jump into anything without being asked, who’d almost killed himself trying to save her, was  _ terrified.  _

Suddenly, Leia’s panic was gone. It would do her no good to sit here, running over her emotions in circles while Luke was in danger. 

She had to  _ do something.  _

And an idea was beginning to take shape. She’d heard about krayt dragons; and maybe these were hybrids, maybe these were illegal and completely  _ not natural,  _ but...all the same, it was odd that lightsabers could cut through durasteel, and somehow could not cut through a dragon’s hide. 

Were they  _ absolutely sure  _ that lightsabers were useless against the dragons?

  
  


Lando had told her to meet both him and Wedge when she was done; Leia felt bad about it, but she couldn’t meet them right away. Instead, she had to do some research, and she had to do it quickly. 

_ I don’t have much time left.  _

The Artoo unit had been useful so far, so she took him with her into the Archive room, reserved only for top-ranking Alliance officials. Fortunately, she was one of these, and it didn’t take her long to get into the database. 

“All right, R7,” she murmured. “Patch into the central console connected to the database for me, and we’ll do some research.” 

Immediately, R7 got right to it; in seconds, he was ready. 

With a smile, Leia patted the droid’s domed head. “You’re a smart little guy, you know that?”

R7 whistled an affirmative. 

“Yes, of course you know that. You also happen to be a little arrogant, but I can deal with it.” Leia scrolled down on the list of topics, filtering it from General, to Creatures, to Extinct Creatures, to Extinct Dragons. There, second in the list, was Krayt Dragons. She selected it, and was met with the shortest blurb she had ever encountered. 

_ Krayt dragons roamed the galaxy until about ten years ago. They lived primarily on Tatooine, and there were two subspecies: the Greater and Canyon krayts. Both subspecies were carnivorous.  _

“That’s not enough,” she muttered. “This doesn’t even tell me how to kill it.” She turned to the droid. “Get me everything on how to kill krayt dragons.” 

R7 whistled, its tool turning back and forth inside the console...and then there was nothing. 

“What?” Leia protested. “It  _ has  _ to be there. Why don’t we have anything on it? R7, try again. Be more specific this time.” 

R7 tried again; and again, she was met with nothing. 

Leia growled under her breath. The Alliance had files on every creature in the galaxy, owing mostly to the fact that they’d run into several dangerous ones while establishing various bases. They had to know what to do with them; and Leia  _ knew  _ that they had information on krayts. 

Had someone...wiped it out?

Impossible. Their system couldn’t be hacked. Unless…

“R7,” she said, “get me everything you can find on LARS.” 

This time--success. Leia was met with two files: the report she’d seen on LARS a week ago, the stolen one from the Empire that had given her the idea to send troops to the hospital there; and a second one titled  _ The Experiment.  _

Huh. She’d never seen that one before. 

Curious, she selected it. 

And a hologram of a Mirialan popped up. 

The Mirialan was tall, thin, and middle-aged from what she could tell; and beyond that, he wore a name tag. Leia could barely make it out. 

It read  _ Doctor Arialus Pandaki.  _

Bingo. 

“R7,” she said. “Play the recording.” 

R7 whistled an affirmative. 

“I do not usually like recording my procedures,” said the doctor, his accent cultured; he was from the Core. “After all, our goal is, essentially, illegal.” 

Leia leaned forward.  _ Here we go.  _

“But this I must record, so that it is never forgotten; so that, if I ever fail, someone can take up the same goal after me, to understand these marvelous creatures and to help them live.” 

Mentally, Leia added Doctor Pandaki to her list of people she was going to kill. 

“Krayt dragons are difficult to kill,” said the doctor. “It is how they survived so long. But they have a weakness; their breast armor, which naturally develops during the third embryonic stage, while strong in the middle, is weak at the edges. At long last, this is what I have remedied. We have used a compound made up of potassium chloride and lithium chloride, which makes lithium metal at a temperature of four hundred and fifty degrees, and combined that with titanium carbide, used to make many highly resistant durasteel materials. And it has not been officially tested--in these times, it would be difficult--but if you had, say, a door made of these two materials, not even a lightsaber could carve through it.” 

There. That was it. 

Titanium Carbide plus lithium metal. No  _ wonder  _ lightsabers couldn’t--

“However, one thing weakens them; and in case of emergency, if the dragons were ever to get loose and wreak havoc, as they might--such magnificent, terrible creatures as they are--it would be handy to keep this around.”

Leia couldn’t believe it. No way had she stumbled upon an actual  _ answer.  _

“The armor is weakened by acid taken from the intestines of the Felucian snail, which is quite venomous by nature,” he went on. “I have already recovered some, for the purpose of testing; it may be stored in the lower levels, or else put into blasters to be fired at the dragon. This will not kill them; it will only weaken the chest armor. But it is a certain chance of stopping them if they do escape.” 

Snail acid. It  _ neutralized the compound.  _ Which meant...if that happened…

Then Luke could kill the dragons. 

_ If  _ he had a lightsaber, which he didn’t. 

Well. Lightsaber or not, it was still a  _ chance.  _

“Leia!” The door burst open, and Lando and Wedge entered. 

Quickly, Leia shut off the holocomputer, and R7, ever the wise droid, unplugged himself and backed away into the shadows. 

“Uh...sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I was just researching.” 

“Researching?” Wedge spread his arms. “You were supposed to come and find us!” 

“I...I know, I know, I was about to, but--” Leia took a deep breath. “Listen, Luke’s in big trouble, and I might have just found the thing that’ll help him.” 

Both Lando and Wedge looked surprised. 

“We’ve got news for you, too,” Lando said. “But you first.” 

So Leia cleared her throat and told them everything, start to finish; except the bit about Luke’s secret. If he was so afraid to tell  _ her,  _ she wouldn’t even let them know the secret existed. She was pretty sure Wedge knew already, as Luke’s roommate, but he’d gotten skilled at hiding things from people. 

That was troubling. Luke used to be an open book. 

When she’d finished, Lando and Wedge just stared at her. 

“So,” Wedge said, “to  _ sum up,  _ Han isn’t anywhere on Felucia--and we knew that--but he stayed because he tracked down scientists who faked being forced out of their facility and retreated to an underground laboratory, to finish their work of resurrecting dragons from...from the  _ dead,  _ and on top of everything else Darth Vader showed up?”

“That’s about right,” Leia said wearily. “But this is why I said--”

“We need to help him,” Wedge said. “And we do. But wait until you hear…” 

He nodded at Lando. 

“We know where Han is,” Lando said. “He’s not on Tatooine.” 

For the first time in days, Leia felt the stirrings of hope in her chest. “Not...not on Tatooine? Really?” 

Lando smiled; he looked as hopeful as she felt. “Really. Boba Fett actually  _ was  _ on Felucia, but only because he had a problem with his ship; once he’d gotten help from the natives, he took off, about an hour before the Rogues showed up.”

Leia frowned. “How do you know this?” 

Lando shot Wedge a look. 

Wedge smirked. “It turns out our new friend here is  _ very  _ knowledgeable about illegal practices, including ways to...obtain travel logs.” 

“You got his travel log?” Leia laughed and briefly threw her arms around both of them. “I can’t believe this! So...so where is he?”

“Well, he’s on his way to Tatooine, and seeing as he has no idea of our whereabouts…” Lando grinned. “He’s going to pass right by us on the way there.” 

_ Right by them.  _ Leia couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true, it  _ couldn’t... _ but somehow, it was. With every parsec, Han Solo was getting closer and closer to her. 

But…

“But Luke,” she said. “What about Luke?” 

“See, Leia…” Wedge rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Now we have a choice, don’t we?” 

There was no  _ we,  _ that much was obvious. The choice was hers. It was clear that she loved Han and Luke deeply; _she_ had to choose. 

But she  _ didn’t want to.  _

If she laid the trap, if they laid in wait for Fett to arrive...they would most certainly stop him. They’d ground the ship, bring out Han’s carbon-frozen form...release him…

And there he’d be. For her to touch, and hug, and embrace, and  _ everything  _ she’d been denied for an entire  _ month-- _

_ “Hey, Princess,”  _ he’d say in that stupid smug voice of his,  _ “miss me?” _

And she’d laugh, and cry, and they’d kiss--

_ I’ve never begged you for anything, not since Bespin.  _

Leia’s fantasies stopped short. 

_ I don’t know how much time I have left.  _

Luke…

_ Help me, Leia. You’re my only hope.  _

If they didn’t go after Fett, Han would be imprisoned by Jabba the Hutt. But if she didn’t go after Luke…

He would  _ die.  _

She didn’t have the Force; she didn’t know  _ what  _ that dream had been. But she had seen it clearly; Luke would either have his body torn apart by those dragons or have his soul ripped from him by Darth Vader. And she happened to be the only person in the world who knew how those monsters could be stopped. 

She could  _ not  _ leave him to die.

“Leia,” Lando said. “I know it’s a hard choice--”

She spun on him furiously. “I can’t! I  _ can’t,  _ Lando, and I  _ know  _ Han’s your friend but--” She bit back a sob. “I  _ can’t choose!”  _

_ You love Han.  _

And she did. It had taken days and weeks and months and years to admit it, but she  _ did,  _ although she’d admitted it too late. She loved Han, and he loved her. 

But...she also loved Luke. 

Not in the same way, it was  _ not  _ the same way; and yet, Luke was not simply just another friend. She was not romantically interested in him, but...but he wasn’t  _ just  _ a friend, either. She’d always had a connection with him. At first, she’d mistaken it for romance, that perhaps the ridiculous concept of soulmates did exist; but eventually, she had realized it was not so. She was simply just connected to him, in some strange way. She wished she could put a finger on what exactly it was, but she’d just accepted it. She loved Luke, and he loved her in the same way. 

_ She couldn’t let him die.  _

“I wish you didn’t have to, but…” Wedge shrugged. “There’s no other way.”

_ No.  _

Leia hated the idea of there being no other way. 

“No,” she said, beginning to pace. “No. There’s always another option. When I was thirteen years old, the Empire sent Stormtroopers to be stationed at the palace where I lived, as punishment for something my father had said in the Senate. When I complained about it, he said he didn’t like it, but we had to comply or be killed; there was no other way. But what he didn’t know was that in my suite of rooms, I kept a stash of red paint, for emergencies. That night, when my parents weren’t watching, I crept down to where one of the troopers was stationed, poured some paint on him from above, and ran away to watch. Naturally, all the other Stormtroopers thought that their comrade had been attacked by someone, and in the confusion, they thought the attackers was one of the other troopers. A fight broke out, all the troopers were considered unfit to be stationed there, and they were all sent back.” Leia raised her eyebrows pointedly. “There is  _ always  _ another option.” 

Lando did a double take. Wedge was staring at her. 

Oh, well.  _ Han  _ would have laughed. She’d better move on. 

“The point is,” Leia went on, “maybe I don’t have to choose. Maybe there’s a way for me to go after Luke...and  _ still  _ save Han.” 

Lando sighed. “Listen, Your Highness--”

“Don’t call me Your Highness,” Leia said crisply. “You’ve known me for a month, you got us away from Bespin, you saved Luke and you’ve been trying to help us find Han for four weeks straight. You’re our friend, Lando.” She smiled. “Call me Leia.” 

“All right...Leia.” Lando shook his head. “My question still stands. How are you going to do both?” 

“Luke is dealing with monsters and Darth Vader,” she said, “both of which I have dealt with.” 

“How well, though?” Wedge asked, a mischievous look in his eye. 

“Wedge, shut up. I  _ have  _ dealt with both of those things, and I know how to stop them. Lando, on the other hand, has experience with bounty hunters. Therefore, I suggest that Lando take a small team of Rebels and go after Boba Fett, and Wedge, Chewbacca and I will take the  _ Falcon.”  _

“Interesting,” Wedge said. “But…” He grinned. “It’ll work.” 

“Wait a minute,” Lando said. “You get Chewie? Going after Fett’s near impossible!” 

Leia stared him down. “Do  _ you  _ want to deal with resurrected dragons, Darth Vader, and Luke’s tendency for self-sacrifice simultaneously?”

“Well, of course not, but--”

“And besides, I think taking Chewie is the only way Han won’t kill us when he learns we took the  _ Falcon  _ out to Felucia.” 

At that, Lando hesitated. “That’s a good point.” 

“All right,” Wedge said, “so we go after Luke...what’s the plan? How are we stopping these dragons? You keep saying you have this secret that will kill them, but so far--”

“I would’ve told you, if you hadn’t kept on telling me to  _ choose,”  _ Leia said sharply. “But here it is. After looking the Archives, I’ve learned what the dragons’ chest armor is made out of; it’s a lethal combination of titanium carbide and lithium metal. Lightsabers can’t pierce through it.” 

“Yeah, you told us that,” Wedge said. “So is there a way to--”

“To neutralize it? Actually, yes. Acid taken from the intestines of Felucian snails. It’s supposed to be kept in the facility’s lower levels.” 

Lando whistled. “That’s a lot of snails.” 

“Indeed,” Leia said dryly. 

“So, that’s it, then,” Wedge said. “We go down to the lower levels, fire that at the dragon...and then Luke can stab them?” 

“Theoretically,” Leia said. “I don’t know how it would work; but it’s at least a chance. And…” She sighed. “Luke’s exhausted, alone, I’m pretty sure he’s wounded. He needs that.” 

“There’s only one problem, you know,” Lando said. “He doesn’t have his lightsaber, right? Didn’t he lose it?”

“He...did,” Leia said, trying not to think of how pained Luke looked every time he flexed his right hand, how he’d been muttering deliriously about his father when they’d begun fitting him with the prosthetic. “He doesn’t have it. But still, like I said, it’s a  _ chance.  _ And then maybe, maybe he could...crush the dragon’s chest plates with the Force? I don’t know.” She laughed half-heartedly. “I don’t know how the Force works.” 

“Neither do we, trust me,” Wedge said, and she got the feeling that the Force had been referenced to him more times than he would like. “But, Leia...there might be a chance for him to have his lightsaber.” 

Her eyes widened. “Really?” 

“Really.” Wedge started walking for the door. “Come with me.”

“Lando,” Leia called over her shoulder as she followed him. “You’re completely cleared to go after Han. Get together a team of Rebels.” 

“All right,” he said. “I’ll keep you posted.” 

  
  


Wedge led her down a path she was familiar with: the walk from here to the Rogues’ barracks, and eventually...to his and Luke’s room. 

“Here?” she asked as they went inside. “What am I looking for?” 

“Something called a kyber crystal,” Wedge said. “He said it was given to him by Obi-Wan Kenobi, on Tatooine; about a week before leaving for Felucia, he left to get it. Just in case, he said...he wanted to build a new one, I think. But he never got around to it.” 

A kyber crystal. That was exactly what they’d do. 

If she could find it...she’d bring it to him. Then he’d just have to be given enough time to construct it. 

Easy enough. 

“All right,” she said. “Where is this kyber crystal?”

“That’s...the thing,” Wedge said. “I know it’s kept in a box, but he’d never tell me where he kept it. He only showed me once.” He shrugged. “You can look around, though, if you want. Like you said, it’s the only chance we have.” 

Well, it wouldn’t hurt to look. Leia walked carefully around the room, trying not to think of all those nights she’d spent in there, comforting him after a nightmare, trying not to think of the games of sabacc she and Luke and Han had set up on the floor. 

_ Soon,  _ she thought.  _ I’ll have them back soon.  _

She didn’t want to touch anything; didn’t want to rifle through his belongings. The thought of ruining his privacy like that, even when he wasn’t there, bothered her. Still, it couldn’t be helped; she lifted reports and stray items of clothing, checked under his bed. There was no box...but instead, there was a journal, buried under half a dozen other items. Leia tried not to look; but as she was moving it, the journal fell open. 

Against her will, she found herself reading what her friend had written, in scrawling letters. There were rambles across the pages, words so messily recorded she could barely read them--clearly, he’d been trying to sort through his thoughts after Bespin--but one sentence in particular stuck out to her. On the bottom of the righthand page was written,  _ If it’s true, then everyone will hate me.  _

Leia froze. This had to be the secret, the thing he wasn’t telling her...but she was struck immediately by sadness. She wanted to cry. How could he  _ possibly  _ think that? How could he think  _ she  _ would hate him for anything? 

Quickly, trying to pretend she hadn’t seen it, Leia shoved the journal away. 

_ Where is it, where is it, where is it… _

It was under his mattress. 

Leia didn’t know how she knew it, but in an instant she’d thrown the pillows and blankets aside, grabbed the mattress, and lifted it up.

“Hey!” Wedge protested. “Hey! Your--Prin--Leia, I know we’re trying to find that thing, but you can’t just--”

Leia turned around, holding the box. 

Wedge stuttered. “How did you--”

“Never mind how,” Leia said, because in truth,  _ she  _ didn’t know how she’d done it. “But here it is. Should...should I open it?”

“If you do it carefully,” Wedge said. 

Leia nodded. Gingerly, with the utmost caution, she unlatched the lid and lifted it; and instantly, a brilliant light shone upward, lighting her face. Inside the box were several mechanical parts, nothing she understood, but which Luke certainly would; and then, in the center, was the cause of the light. A tiny thing, but brighter than anything else Leia had ever seen. 

A green kyber crystal. 

“That’s it,” Wedge said. 

“Green,” Leia mused, looking at it. “That’s a surprise.” 

Wedge frowned. “Why is it a surprise?” 

“Because...well, his old one was blue,” Leia explained. “His father’s lightsaber. He idolizes his father. Why would he want to change to something different?”

“Just because he idolizes him doesn’t mean he wants to  _ be  _ him,” Wedge said. “I’d guess he wants to differentiate himself, become his own man.” 

“Maybe,” Leia said. But it was still odd. 

Oh, well. There were so many mysteries, and none of them could be solved at the moment. She closed the lid. 

“Well,” she said. “This will certainly help us.” 

“Yeah,” Wedge said. “I’d say it will.” 

She could just picture Luke’s face when he saw it. He’d be ecstatic…

And she was  _ going  _ to see that look on his face. She would not be too late. 

“Well,” she said to Wedge, “do you want to find Chewie and get the ship ready?”

Wedge grinned, likely overjoyed at the prospect of seeing Luke alive and healthy. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Then, still grinning like a schoolboy, he ran off. 

Left alone, Leia opened the box one last time, allowing herself to look at the kyber crystal. There was something about it, something that was...no, that’s ridiculous. But it was as if it was  _ calling  _ to her. 

No. No, that was absurd. Because if it was, she’d be Force sensitive. 

Was she? 

She’d shared a dream with Luke. She’d known where to find the kyber crystal. She’d sensed her father die. 

But how could he have been her father, if she was Force sensitive?

No, those were questions that could be answered later. She couldn’t think about that now. At the moment, it was about getting the kyber crystal to Luke, and that was it. 

“I’m coming, Luke,” Leia said, closing the lid once more and looking off into the distance, as if she could see Luke from this far away, as if she could give him comfort from here. “Just stay alive until I get there.” 


	27. Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we return, at long last, to the people under attack at the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! I've been wanting to write this chapter for a month and a week, and I hope it doesn't disappoint! Thanks to you all for being so patient; it must have been torture to come back and NOT find out what happens at the hospital right away XD but here it is! 
> 
> Thanks as always to my beta, KaelinaLovesLomaris!

Aphra’s warning came too late. 

The two Canyon krayts, having devoured as much of Doctor Alvi as they wished, moved faster than Luke had anticipated. Almost before he’d processed what was happening, the dragons were leaping forward on powerful legs, covering the distance onto the floor in a matter of seconds and--

And he couldn’t move. Time seemed to have stopped. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t run; and, he realized, neither could Aphra. She stood two feet to his right, her mouth open, eyes wide. Fear had rooted them both to the spot; they could only stand, frozen, and stare in horror at the monsters coming right for them. 

_Run!_

The thought was thrown at him so suddenly that Luke wondered if it was his own, if it was his panicked brain telling him to--

**_Run!_ **

\--but no. It _couldn’t_ be him, because it felt like the Force, it felt like every time the Force had warned him of danger; and he had to be imagining the anger, the fury there, maybe he was too terrified. What was important was that he had to run. The monsters, the dragons, they were _right there,_ and--

And he had to run. Luke shook himself out of his fear. 

“Aphra!” he shouted, grabbing her hand to pull her away. “We have to--”

But then the Canyon krayts were on top of them. 

_“No!”_ In the last possible second, Luke focused the Force around himself and Aphra and _leaped,_ straight over the dragons, across the corridor toward the stairs. A second later, they fell; in midair, Luke switched their positions so that it was him who hit the ground first. It was only a three-meter drop anyway. 

All the same, that may have been a mistake. His injured leg slammed into the floor, and he shouted in pain. The world dipped into shades of black and red, bending and curving in on itself--

“Luke!” There was a hand on his shoulder, and as he came back to consciousness, Luke realized Aphra hadn’t called him “Skywalker,” or “kid.” She’d called him by his name. “Luke, hey, I know you’re injured, but we have to go!” 

“Yeah,” he managed to get out past the searing pain in his leg; at least, he thought, it wasn’t as bad as it had been an hour ago. But an hour’s wait was hardly conducive to healing. “Yeah, I know--”

Something hissed. 

He looked up. The dragons were on the floor, seeming momentarily confused as to why their prey had suddenly vanished; and then, in an instant, recognition flashed in their gleaming eyes. 

“Go,” Aphra said, not taking her eyes off the dragons. “Go!” 

The dragons squealed and leaped toward them. 

This time it was Aphra who grabbed Luke’s hand, pulling him to his feet and immediately beginning to run. The pain that flashed through his leg was _worse_ this time, and he almost screamed; but at the last second, he restrained himself. No matter how much his leg hurt, he was _not_ going to scream, partly because if he did Vader would hear him, and partly because if he did, the _dragons_ would hear him. 

_I’m really, really sick of everyone hunting me down,_ he thought as Aphra spun both of them round a corner. 

He looked over his shoulder. The dragons were, once again, almost on top of them.

They couldn’t run like this, they couldn’t outrun these things; on Tatooine, in their near-extinct state, they’d been bad enough. But here, in their younger state, new and freshly brought back from the dead, they were even faster, more relentless; and with Luke injured like this, they couldn’t. They wouldn’t be able to get away--

“Aphra, stop!” he shouted. 

“Are you crazy?” she screamed at him, clearly terrified. “These things are--”

“Too fast, we can’t!” Luke dragged in his heels, forcing them to stop--and didn’t _that_ hurt--and turned around. “Trust me!”

Miraculously, Aphra stopped, already reaching for her blaster even though they both knew it would do nothing; and Luke faced the Canyon krayts, hoping against all hope that trust in him did not turn out to be unfounded. He didn’t even know if he could do this, but he had to try. 

The dragons were coming right for him--something else was coming for him too, a presence full of darkness and fury, but he ignored it--the dragons were coming, screaming nurses and doctors and assistants running away from the creatures in both directions; he had no time, like before, no time to stretch out and make _sure_ the Force was with him. He just had to do it. 

_Come on, come on…_

“No,” he told Aphra. “Stay back. The blaster won’t work.” 

Speechless, she nodded. 

The dragons were closing in. 

He wanted to get away from those things, he wanted to run and never see those cold eyes or snarling teeth ever again; but almost against his will, Luke stepped forward, dragging his injured leg to keep from putting weight on it...and still, pain shot up his leg. 

He was _sick_ of being in pain. 

At that moment, the dragons lunged. With a yell, Luke stretched out his arms, reaching toward the creatures with all the pain and misery and rage he could feel, and _threw_ the Force at them. 

With identical shrieks, the dragons were thrown across the corridor to _smack_ into the wall. 

“Whoa,” Aphra gasped from behind him. “I had no idea you could do that.” 

Luke could only stand there, feeling his anger dissipate, and wondering why in the galaxy he felt so odd, so _strange,_ so...so absolutely brimming with power--

He paled. 

This was the Dark Side. Once again, he’d used the Dark...and without even thinking about it…

And what if those dragons had been sentient beings? 

Luke stared at his hands, half expecting them to be stained in blood. 

“You idiot, what are you doing?” Aphra hissed, grabbing his arm. “Come on!” 

Right. Right, they had to run. Still struggling with his spiraling thoughts, Luke put all his weight on his uninjured leg, wishing he knew how to mute his pain with the Force; but after what he’d just done, he was afraid to even reach out, even into every Light emotion that existed. Two times. Two times he’d reached out like that, unthinking; he could have killed these creatures--

But didn’t he _want_ them dead? They’d tried to kill--they _had_ killed--innocent people. They should die. 

But not like that, he decided. Not like that. It was the principle of the thing that mattered. Maybe killing these dragons wasn’t bad, when they had hurt so many people...but if he did it with the Dark Side...would he get too used to it? 

The next time an innocent, sentient being happened to do something he didn’t like, would he use it on _them?_

He couldn’t. He couldn’t use the Dark Side at _all._

“What’s gotten into you?” Aphra demanded as they turned another corner. The floor was almost empty now, any doctors and nurses having fled the area (or fallen prey to the dragons, but Luke didn’t want to think about that). “I know you’re wounded, but you can’t just stand there--”

“Sorry.” Luke could only speak in short gasps, between the running and the constant pains shooting up his leg. “Got distracted.” 

“Distracted? With _what?”_

Luke’s anger rose, and he opened his mouth to snap at her; then, remembering what he’d done to the dragons, he stopped. Maybe Vader believed this was the way to control an injury, but he was wrong. 

“Never mind,” he said. “It’s, uh...Jedi stuff.” 

“Jedi stuff,” Aphra echoed, the sarcasm in her voice reminding him too much of Han. “Okay, well, you just take care of the dragons, and I’ll take care of getting us out of here.” She sighed. “I mean, it’s regrettable that Sola’s still here, but--”

Sola. _Ruya._

_The Naberries were still here._

Luke would have stopped in his tracks if it wasn’t guaranteed to make him shout again. All the same…

“Aphra,” he said, quietly--he didn’t know where the dragons were--as they approached the stairs, and the door that Vader had ripped off its hinges. “Aphra, you’re going to kill me, but--”

Aphra was quiet for one second. Then _she_ stopped--was she going to have _any_ mercy on his leg?--and spun around. 

“No,” she snapped. “No, no, no, no, no, NO, _NO!_ I just knew you were going to say that, I knew it, and I feel bad for them, I do, but first of all, have you _seen_ that woman? She can hold her own.” 

“Of course she can--” Personally, Luke thought that Sola’s take-charge attitude reminded him of Leia. “But that’s not the point! The point is, these things are monsters--”

“Listen,” Aphra demanded, “speaking of the _monsters,_ we don’t know where they are, they could be anywhere, they’re probably following us, and _do you want to escape Darth Vader or not?”_

Luke opened his mouth for a retort--and then he shut again. Because it was true, this was his chance; he’d had it proven to him, time and time again, that Vader was not anywhere near the father he’d wanted, that all he needed Luke for was personal power. He wasn’t going to let himself be manipulated. 

But did that mean he’d let people die?

Against the wall, as if to reinforce his dilemma, lay a Twi'lek doctor. One of her lekku was completely missing, and half her torso was missing. Her eyes stared, dead, up at the ceiling.

Oh, Force. Here he was back at the same choice he’d faced three days ago, before he’d even been aware of the dragons--run or save innocent people--but which was the worst fate: being impaled by a lightsaber, or being ripped apart by dragons?

It was a hard choice, but...in the end, he’d rather be impaled by a lightsaber. Being devoured by dragons was just about the worst way to go, especially when they had such a dead, merciless look in their eyes. 

And he couldn’t let any of these people--least of all _Ruya--_ suffer that fate. To imagine her, screaming in pain...

No. He couldn't run. He didn't know why it had even been an option in the first place.

_Maybe because you're wounded in several places and you haven't slept and you can't think straight, maybe that's why._

“I don’t care,” he said. “I’m going back.” 

“No! No, you’re--Luke, listen to me.” Aphra sounded legitimately desperate. “Okay. Okay, okay, we’ll save them, but we’ll be able to do it better once we’re already in Pandaki’s ship! Don’t you get it?”

Well. She had a point. 

“Keep talking,” he said. 

“And so,” she went on, “we’ll get in the ship, fly back here, blow the dragons to smithereens, and get the hell out of here. How does that sound?”

It sounded about as good as the situation would get. And, Luke had to admit, he couldn’t do much good with his leg the way it was. 

“That’s the first sensible idea you’ve had so far,” he said. 

“I’d be insulted, but I can be a dumbass sometimes, so I agree.” Aphra started running again, and Luke followed. “Now we just have to get outside the building. No biggie, right?”

Six flights. Okay. Okay, he could do that. 

“Yep,” he said, trying to pretend he wasn’t terrified. 

“Where are the dragons?” she asked. “Can you, like...feel them? In the Force?”

Luke didn’t bother responding; he needed to save time, and dragons were _difficult_ to sense clearly. He reached out, spreading his senses across the entire floor--panicking when he felt that dark, cold presence reaching for him--there they were. Close, but not too close. 

“We can make it,” he said. 

“Okay. Good.” Aphra frowned at the door; or, rather, what was left of it. “Wow, Vader never learned the ‘don’t vandalize public spaces’ rule, did he?”

“He doesn’t exactly live according to the laws of a functioning society,” Luke said wryly, glad--and relieved--that Aphra’s sense of humor was distracting him from his pain. 

It was a short-lived relief. 

Aphra stepped forward onto the threshold, and immediately, danger spiked in the Force. From the stairwell in front of them, there was a hiss, a shriek--

“Go!” Luke shouted, throwing Aphra backward with the Force. 

He was about to turn to make sure she was all right, that he hadn’t accidentally hurt her--he couldn’t use the Dark Side, he couldn’t, he couldn’t--when _danger_ materialized in the form of _three more_ Canyon krayts, who all flung themselves at him with identical roars. 

  
  


Luke. He had to get to Luke. 

Everything was chaos, and it had all happened so quickly. As soon as Vader had left Jobal’s room, his thought only on the power having returned; as soon as he’d seen Luke in front of that turbolift, about to escape, he knew he had one second to stop his son in his tracks. He had had one single opportunity to take Luke with him for good, and he was about to seize it. 

And then, the next instant, Canyon krayts exploded out of the turbolift; Luke had frozen still; and worst of all, his path to Luke had been blocked by dozens of panicking nurses and doctors. They had been quickly thrown aside--he wasn’t in any hurry to save _them,_ after all--but that still left Luke vulnerable. For some reason, he wasn’t moving; and in a desperate effort to save him, before he even knew what he was doing Vader had reached out for his son’s mind, demanded that he run. 

And, miraculously, that had done the trick. 

Luke, for the first time in three days, had _listened to him._

Maybe the boy wasn’t aware of it; he’d probably been too panicked to pay much attention. But all the same, Luke had listened. 

And in that single instant, hope was renewed in him; hope such as he hadn’t felt in years, hope for an actual, ordinary _relationship_ with his son. 

It was foolish, to hope for such a thing. Vader knew that it would not last; it would last the remaining three days, at the most, before he turned Luke over to Palpatine. 

But even those three days might be worth it. 

And then, before he could act on any of that hope, Luke was gone. 

Vader moved instantly. He hadn’t felt this kind of desperation since...since...since _Bespin,_ when everything rested on his ability to capture his son, to snare him in a perfectly laid trap. Since the day he’d failed. 

He would not fail today.

And yet, as fast as he walked through the winding corridors of the hospital, despite the fact that he _felt Luke near,_ he could not find him. The dragons, too, were gone; he heard them, claws scraping against the walls up ahead, but could not--

A sudden spike of rage, of _anger_ in the Force, cut off his train of thought. 

Luke. 

Luke had used the Force. 

Luke had used the _Dark Side._

Vader stopped short. For the second time that day, Luke had given into his anger; he had done what Vader wanted him to do, unprompted. And it meant something wonderful, something he’d been working toward for three days. 

His son...might have a fighting chance. 

His son might be able to save _himself._

Still he pressed onward, following the trail of Luke’s pain; the anger, he realized, had faded immediately. 

Of course it had. Luke was still reluctant to use the Dark Side. 

Well. That would quickly be remedied. Because now he had a plan. 

When he found his son...he would not help right away. If Luke was cornered by the dragons, with no help available, he would be forced to use his rage and anger. 

Vader marched onward, more eager now, eager to find his son, to see what he would do. People continued to scream, to run this way and that; he ignored them. They were unimportant. And somewhere, somewhere in the distance there were the two dragons that had attacked first, but they were running _away_ from Luke, not toward him. Toward the patients. And that--that made him feel _guilty,_ strangely, but he shoved the feeling away. This was all Jobal’s fault, wasn’t it, that he was now second-guessing himself; but he must not. He was a Sith, first and foremost. 

_Then why,_ asked a voice in his head, _are you determined to save your son?_

Well. That was obvious. Luke needed to _not die_ so that they could overthrow Palpatine, and only by taking him off Felucia _now_ could Vader succeed at that. And, certainly, Luke was wounded in several places, which would slow him down; but though he knew very little about his son, Vader at least knew that he was very, very skilled at getting away. 

And that meant he had to find him. He walked faster--

_Danger._

For the second time, Vader stopped, immediately searching the Force. He was nearing the stairwell now, nearing his son’s bright presence; and yet, there was danger. Luke was in danger. 

So he must stop. 

This was it; this was the test. Luke had failed before, had failed to use the last vestiges of his desperation to save his own life, to destroy the dragons in anger; and, as a reward, he had almost lost his cousin. This time, he had Aphra to protect. 

He would have to do it. He was a Skywalker; he had a weakness for those he loved. 

So Vader waited. 

And waited. 

And...nothing happened. 

Nothing, but Luke’s pain. 

But he had to wait. He could do nothing, he--

_You have failed to obey your basic ethical duty as a father._

No, he snarled at the memory of _that woman,_ at her _audacity._ No. Luke is _my son,_ he must learn that I know what is best for him. 

And still Luke did not act. He was mere steps away; Vader could sense him around the corner. 

_And what is that?_

And still, still Vader must wait, despite how utterly _wrong_ it felt. This was Luke’s great test, he must let him--

_To love your son more than yourself._

Damn the woman. 

  
  


It was behind him. Of _course_ it was behind him, _of course_ it had been watching the entire time, and of course Veers was still in the lower levels. 

The dragon didn’t waste any time; it took one look at Piett and lunged. But one good thing about serving on the _Executor_ was that it had given him nerves of steel; and in an instant, the Admiral was diving forward, rolling into a crouch and out of the dragon’s way. Behind him, there was a crash as the creature collided with the wall, and Piett wasted no time. In an instant, he was up and running for the door, throwing it open, seizing his blaster as he ran--

He barely got out in time. Behind him, there was a terrifying roar. 

He’d been about to reach for his comlink, to warn Veers, but now there was no time; from what he’d heard about these things, they were _fast._ Claws skidded behind him on the floor, and Piett spun around. 

The dragon froze, two inches from him. 

It was studying him. 

_That,_ he had _not_ expected. What he’d heard about krayt dragons informed him that they were bestial, ferocious, with all the qualities of any wild animal, just...larger. 

But this one was _intelligent._

It was sizing him up; and it had had plenty of time to do that. It had already studied him, had watched while he waited for the power to come back on. So why was it stopping? 

_It’s messing with me,_ Piett realized. _Wants me to let my guard down._

So, without a second’s hesitation, he drew his blaster and fired. 

And a good thing that he had; the dragon’s eyes tracked the movement, which meant that as he fired it was already moving. But fortunately, fear seemed to have sharpened his instincts, and the shot hit the dragon right in its left eye. 

Then he was running, the dragon screaming behind him, already reaching for his comlink. 

“Max!” he shouted hoarsely. “MAX!” 

There was a terrifying second of silence, then--

“Firmus, what’s wrong?”

“There’s one up here,” he gasped into the comlink, even as the floor began to shake--it was coming up behind him--with only one choice, he threw down the comlink and spun around, ready to fire. 

The dragon was _right on top of him._

It was already leaping. 

Piett couldn’t stop it; he could only leap out of the way, heart pounding, as it lunged for him. Claws ripped along his arm, but that was it; the rest of him was untouched as he landed on the floor, ears ringing. 

The next second, he was back up again and running back the opposite direction.

No way, there was no way out--this thing was too fast--

“Firmus!” shouted Veers’ voice from the comlink. “Firmus! Where are you?” 

The dragon hissed again; once more, Piett had barely made it a few steps, and this time he was firing with only one good arm. But this time he had an idea. As the dragon came up behind him, he turned around and dropped at the same time, figuring his movement would send the dragon over his head, and he would be missed completely. 

The _shriek_ that followed alerted him to the fact that he’d planned wrong. 

Desperately, at the last second, Piett rolled out of the way, barely avoiding the dragon; of course it had followed his movement, this thing was _too damned intelligent,_ he couldn’t escape. 

“Max!” he shouted out loud, running backwards as the dragon turned around, running for him again. “Max, WHERE ARE YOU?”

  
  


Firmus was in danger. There was a dragon up there with him, and all the training of the Imperial military could not get Veers up there fast enough. 

Damn this facility, damn the scientists for creating such a complex system for rebooting the power; if only they hadn’t had to be separated. If only they’d been there together, then they wouldn’t be surprised--

“FIRMUS!” he shouted, not caring how many dragons heard him; he could take care of them. He’d blow right through them if that’s what it took to get to Piett. They had not come all this way, just for the sake of warning their commander, _he_ hadn’t come all this way to lose his _best friend--_

If he lost Piett, he’d never forgive himself. 

“Max!” 

The voice echoed from the upper levels. Still alive, he was still alive. 

Veers ran faster. 

“Max, WHERE ARE YOU?”

There was the scraping of claws, something _large_ above them. Veers slid around the corner, almost tripping over himself, in the effort to get to the turbolift. 

“I’m HERE!” he shouted, pressing the button repeatedly, over and over, _why wouldn’t the damned thing work._ “Firmus, I’m coming!” 

The turbolift slid open. 

Veers ran inside, listening, listening desperately and hoping he never heard the sound of that creature’s jaws closing over his friend. 

For several seconds, there was nothing. Only the sound of the lift doors closing. 

Veers had never believed in the Force, hadn’t taken Lord Vader’s beliefs seriously, but in this moment, if Piett survived, he decided he’d believe. 

_Anything. Anything, just don’t let him die--_

The Empire promoted professionalism, detachment; Veers knew that he was not supposed to care this much if Piett lived or died. But he couldn’t help it. 

Years ago, Piett had helped him survive his first week around Lord Vader. 

They’d shared stories over cups of caf, late into the night, for years. 

Piett was his greatest supporter within the Empire, the reason it was worth it to survive Darth Vader’s mood swings. And it was an honor to serve, of course it was; but in that moment, Veers realized that none of it would be worth it if Firmus Piett were not by his side. 

The turbolift started to go up. 

And then, above him, came a dragon’s roar. 

“Firmus!” Veers called, desperately. “FIRMUS! Answer me, _dammit!”_

But there was no answer. 

  
  


_Three more dragons._

Aphra was there, stunned, possibly unconscious from the impact of being thrown against a wall; and yet all three of the dragons went for Luke. 

Before he knew it, he was reaching out instinctively. 

_No,_ his mind screamed at him, _YOU CAN’T USE IT._

He stopped. He was right; he couldn’t. 

The next instant, something heavy crashed into him, sharp claws scraping across his chest--his head struck the floor painfully, red flashed in front of his eyes--

_Wake up, wake up, wake UP!_

He blinked his eyes open, past the burning of his head, and the screaming of his leg--looked up--

Right into the beady yellow eyes of one of the dragons. 

Luke’s heart stopped. It had him, they _all_ had him; the other two had stopped on either side of him, simply staring. _Waiting._

He wished they’d just hurry up and finish him. 

He was useless, he couldn’t use the Dark Side, so he couldn’t kill them; Vader was right, he _was_ weak. He wouldn’t be able to save anyone, much less himself. 

He wished they’d finish it. 

The krayt that had him pinned tilted its head, regarding him with that terrible, cold gaze. Yes, he thought, as horrifying as it would be to have his own father stab him with a lightsaber, he would absolutely prefer that over having his flesh torn apart by these monsters’ teeth, enduring the agony of _watching_ himself die and not be able to do anything about it--

Yet that was exactly what was going to happen. 

And, strangely enough, despite the agony in his leg, despite the pressure of the dragon’s whole weight pressing down on his chest, despite the scrapes that, as soon as the creatures attacked, would turn into wounds and gashes...he was utterly calm. He hadn’t been strong enough; so, as a just reward, this was how he was going to go. 

And he was all right with that. 

But all the same, he found himself wishing several things. 

_I just wish I’d seen Leia...one last time…_

_I wish I’d been able to save Han…_

_I wish my father wasn’t Darth Vader._

But none of those things were possible. 

The dragon hissed, disgusting globs of saliva dripping down onto his neck, and Luke resisted the urge to close his eyes. He was a Jedi...or at least, on his way to being a Jedi. He was going to die staring death in the face. 

_But I don’t want to die…_

There was a low purring sound in the dragon’s throat. On either side of him, the other two came closer; but Luke didn’t even turn his head. 

Out of nowhere panic seized him, a desperate desire to _live,_ to do something, and he found himself reaching up with his arms, in a last effort to push the thing off of him--

The dragon _roared._

It was horrible, not as loud as the Alpha or the Greater, but horrible in the sense that it was _grating,_ a screeching cry not unlike that of a bird. 

He’d angered it. 

Then the cry was over, and Luke saw it in its eyes: it was done playing. _No, no, no,_ he thought desperately, as it lunged for him, a set of sharp claws digging into his shoulder--

And as something roared in rage behind him, everything went black. 

  
  


_White. He’s back in the white hallway._

_And, once again, Ruya is screaming._

_“Luke!” She’s calling his name, she needs his help. He runs forward, the sound of his boots hitting the floor seeming to echo._

_“Ruya!” He knows she’s close; he can sense her, for some reason._

_But that’s odd, because she doesn’t have the Force--_

_It doesn’t matter. He keeps running._

_“Luke!”_

_Ruya, she’s closer, but--that’s another odd thing, because she sounds...older. The voice is still female, but...definitely not that of a child._

_Then who--_

_“Luke!” No, it’s definitely Ruya; who else would it be? He’s almost there, she’s in the room just ahead. It’s a corridor away, he’s almost there--_

_And someone else. Someone else is coming to meet him._

_Someone up ahead?_

_He’s confused, this makes no sense, but he runs anyway, because this isn’t just about saving Ruya. There’s someone up ahead, someone he has to meet--_

_Someone important--_

_He’s almost there--_

_And darkness seizes him from behind, darkness coiling around his limbs, forcing him to the ground, and he’s trying to draw his lightsaber--he has it--_

_Then it’s gone._

_And, in a searing flash of pain, both his hands are gone as well._

_He screams, and there are screams up ahead, but they no longer matter...because Darth Vader is looming over him. In one hand he wields his own blood red lightsaber; and in his other hand is Luke’s._

_“I told you.” Vader’s voice seems to echo through the corridors. “You are too weak. I cannot call you my son.”_

_“Luke!” someone screams--Ruya. That’s right, she’s in danger--_

_“No,” he says helplessly, trying to scramble backwards, put some distance between himself and the monster who calls himself his father, “Ruya…”_

_“She is worthless,” Vader declares. “You must let her die.”_

_“No!” Luke searches for something, anything, to use against him--but there’s nothing--_

_Vader raises both lightsabers--_

_“No! Luke!”_

_Something is there._

_Something, up ahead, running toward him; that’s not right, this isn’t right. They aren’t supposed to be there. Luke looks away from Vader, trying to focus, and for a second he can make out a shape, colors swirling in and out of focus amidst the white--someone, reaching for him, trying to touch him._

_“Luke!”_

_Not Ruya._

_That voice, he knows that voice. Somewhere, somehow--_

_In the last moment before Vader kills him, it hits him._

_It’s_ Leia. 

  
  


Luke came gasping back to consciousness, and the first thought in his confused brain was _what the hell is Leia doing in my vision?_

Then he realized it didn’t matter, because everything around him was rage. 

Pure, black rage in the Force, pouring into a very familiar bond in his mind, almost overwhelming in its strength; but all Luke could do was lie there, half conscious, and wonder who it was. Then the dragon was _yanked_ off of him, his shoulder twinging as the claws were forcibly removed, but Luke was too shocked to scream; maybe from blood loss, but maybe also from the fact that something seized around the dragon’s thick, muscled throat and _snapped._

And just like that, it was dead. 

_What,_ he thought, _who--_

But, as the other dragons threw themselves at their new opponent, and were also thrown through the air, it became obvious. Vader. Vader had saved him. 

Somehow, Luke hadn’t expected him to do that; he’d sensed him there, he realized, sensed the Sith Lord’s presence for over a minute, and he’d been doing _nothing_ to help...but here he was. 

Luke was, once again, overwhelmed by pain, struggling to stay conscious, but he had to get up. He had to move. 

Aphra...where was Aphra...

Vader was going to think he was weak. He had to get up. 

He started to move, ignoring the new pain in his shoulder, the even _worse_ pain in his leg; somehow, the claws hadn’t dug too deep this time. He could sense it: this wound was not as bad as the previous one.

All the easier to ignore. He sat up--

_“Stay down!”_

A touch of the Force, and Luke was flat on his back again. 

What--why--had Vader--

He wasn’t demanding that Luke fight the dragons. 

Maybe it was too much to hope for, but Luke wondered if it was possible...if Vader saving him, demanding he stay down, prioritizing Luke’s safety over him using the Dark Side, meant that…

That he cared about him. 

Maybe it was too much to hope for, but despite everything he’d experienced in the past month, Luke was an optimist at heart. 

_Please,_ he begged the Force, _please, please…_

Above him, Vader continued to kill the dragons, rage pouring forth into the Force; Luke shivered. He’d come close to doing that, to using that much anger. 

Whether or not Vader actually did care about him, he couldn’t do that. 

He could not give in. 

With a final squeal, the last dragon was dead; and suddenly, Vader was _kneeling in front of him,_ one black-gloved hand extended. 

_Just like Bespin,_ he realized. Except that this time, the hand was simply extended for the purpose of helping him up. 

This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t real. Maybe he was delirious. 

_Oh, come on,_ he thought, _your wound isn’t_ that _bad._

But then that meant it was real, that Vader acting like...like a _father_ was real. And then, despite the pain coursing through multiple places in his body, Luke felt suddenly light, joyful; _his father cared._

_This is everything I’ve ever--_

“Well?” The harsh voice grating on his ears, and the blissful moment had ended; Vader the father was gone, and Vader the Sith Lord was back. “What are you _doing?_ Get up!” 

All the same, the way he said that...it almost sounded paternal. 

“Uh…” Luke blinked. “Yeah. Sorry.” 

Annoyance radiated from Vader, and yet it was worth it. Groaning, Luke took the outstretched hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. 

“Ow,” he said. “That--that’s the arm that’s wounded, you know--”

“You will not die,” Vader snapped, and with a sigh, Luke realized that the moment was officially over. 

Another groan hit his ears, and he looked at Aphra, who was just getting up. Alarm flashed through her eyes as she noticed Vader, but it was quickly eclipsed by a look of irritation. 

“We were supposed to _escape_ him, dingus,” she said. 

Luke shook his head at her, but it was too late; the words were out. Fearfully, he glanced at his...at his father--admit it, just admit it--but there was no outward reaction from Vader. 

Luke heaved a sigh of relief. 

Instantly, anger flashed through the Force. _Too soon._

“I would not overestimate your abilities, young one,” Vader growled. “You are _not_ escaping me. The power has returned, and we are going to _leave.”_

 _No!_ Panic shot through him; the image of a father was obviously a short-lived one. There were still two dragons up here, and the Naberries were in danger--

“No,” Luke said, “please. Please, we can’t--”

“I have had _enough_ of your pleading,” Vader snarled, seizing Luke’s arm. “If you knew the lengths I have gone to in order to find you, to hunt you down, just for the sheer purpose of--”

Vader stopped, seeming to notice the way Aphra was looking between them as though her favorite soap opera had just come on. 

“Never mind,” he said sharply, seeming to regain a sense of control. “But you are injured, we have survived several encounters with dragons, and as the opportunity to take you off the planet is finally within my grasp, _I will seize it!”_

“I--” Luke stammered. “I--”

_Ruya. Think of Ruya._

“I...will come with you,” he said, forcing himself to sound strong. “I will. I don’t want to. It’s the last thing in the world that I want, but I _will.”_

Vader relaxed slightly. 

_Here we go._

“On one condition,” he said, and Vader’s fury _exploded._

“I have had _enough_ of your _tactics,”_ Vader hissed, pulling Luke closer so that the mask was right in his face, and _oh why can’t you be a caring father and not be terrifying for more than fifteen seconds!_ “This is solely to escape me, and I _know it,_ but I will not stand for it. You will resist me _no longer,_ young one. You _must_ see sense. As I have said, if you knew the efforts I have--”

“We have to save the Naberries,” Luke said. 

Silence. 

That had seemed to do the trick, so he pressed his luck. 

“Listen, Ruya went all the way into the jungle to find me,” he said. “Sola saved me from the dragon. Surely you understand that! Even if you don’t care about them...you have to understand…”

He wished Aphra wasn’t _right there._

All the same, he squared his shoulders. “We have to save them. They did us a favor. Now we have to help them back.” 

For the longest time, Vader didn’t respond; he simply remained still, absolutely frozen, his grip on Luke’s arm like iron. The most terrifying thing about it was the unpredictability; Luke had no idea if Vader was about to cave to his wish, or if he was about to do something...even worse. 

Aphra started to lean toward him, to say something, but Luke elbowed her. He could not risk her ruining his chances. 

“Very well,” Vader ground out, and Luke could have burst with relief. “I...relent, for the time being. We will save the Naberries. _But,”_ he added in a very low, very dangerous tone, “you will remain by my side the entire time. You will not leave. You will not attempt to escape. And if you do…” 

His mask tipped, _all too pointedly,_ towards Aphra. 

Horror and fear flooded Luke. No--he wouldn’t--

Who was he kidding? Of course he would. 

Luke supposed he’d just wanted to hope, for two seconds, that Vader could be a father. 

Vader looked back at him. 

“So you understand,” Vader said, in that tone that was lower than the grave. 

Luke clenched his fists. 

“Yes,” he said quietly. 

“Very good.” Vader let go of Luke, at _last,_ and began walking back toward the spot where Luke had thrown the two dragons. “Now, we will save the Naberries.” 

Silent, Aphra walked alongside Luke. Vader hadn’t said anything more to her; hopefully, he was just going to ignore her completely. 

“So,” she said in a low voice, “after we save the Naberries--”

Luke whirled on her, putting a finger to his lips. 

“ _Don’t say anything,”_ he hissed. 

“And, in addition,” Vader boomed, turning to look at them, “if you believe that you can call your droid to come and _rescue you,_ you are sorely mistaken. A droid is no match for me.”

 _Oh, yeah?_ Luke smirked. _Tell that to Artoo._

Artoo. 

He was still by the X-Wing. 

Poor Artoo, he thought, his amusement turning suddenly to sadness; the droid was so loyal, so devoted to Luke...he hoped Artoo didn’t think Luke had abandoned him. 

He hoped the droid hadn’t been waiting by the X-Wing for three entire days, waiting for Luke to return. But then...knowing the droid...he probably was. He’d wait a million years for Luke to return, just because he trusted him. 

Mentally, as he walked through the halls that were too silent, hoping the next sound he heard wasn't Ruya screaming, Luke added Artoo to the list of friends he wished he could see again. 

  
  


It was over. 

The dragon had knocked him over with a roar; it was clearly furious at this point, furious that Piett had escaped this many times, and as the Admiral had been turning to run, a claw had struck him in the back, sending him head over heels. 

For a moment, he hovered on the edge of darkness. Then he returned, just in time to see the dragon running towards him. 

_My blaster,_ he thought numbly, his back burning, _where is it?_

He must have dropped it. 

“I’m coming!” echoed a voice from somewhere in the distance. “Firmus!” 

Veers, Piett thought as the dragon approached. He was too late. 

“No,” he muttered, dragging himself up onto his forearms. “No--this is _not_ how I die--” 

The dragon was meters away. 

The sound of feet echoed. It was on the same floor. Veers had arrived, he was close...but so far. 

He wouldn’t make it in time. 

The dragon was feet away. 

Still Piett continued to drag himself, crawling forward, not trusting himself to stand. He couldn’t do this to Veers, he _couldn’t--_

A hiss sounded above his head. 

Piett looked up, and almost passed out on the spot. 

There it was, right above him. 

Its mouth was open, ready to descend on him, to devour him alive. 

Its one eye was also open wide. In shock. 

The dragon, all of a sudden, wasn’t moving. 

Piett froze, confused; what had happened? Why wasn’t the dragon attacking him? 

Had another _worse_ dragon showed up? 

As he watched, confused and terrified and disbelieving, electricity seized the dragon, coursing over and through and under it. 

The dragon dropped to the ground, unconscious. Piett was sure it wasn’t dead. It was too tough for that. 

All the same, the dragon was unconscious. 

But that didn’t mean he was safe. Who had done it? What mighty creature had defeated this krayt dragon? 

He was answered by a soft whistle, and a _droid_ rolled around the unconscious dragon. 

Piett stared in shock. 

It was an Artoo unit, that much was clear; the droid was painted blue and silver, and despite being, well, _not organic,_ it almost looked...satisfied with itself. 

“I suppose I have you to thank,” Piett told it. 

The droid beeped. Piett’s binary was terrible, but he could roughly understand this one. 

_Of course you do,_ the droid had said. _I saved your life._

“Well.” Piett crossed his arms. “You could stand to be a bit more humble.” 

The droid let out a derogatory noise that Piett couldn’t understand. 

Maybe it was for the best that he couldn’t understand it. 

“In any case,” he said, “how did you get here?”

 _That information is classified,_ said the droid. 

Piett sighed. So, this was one of _those_ droids, was it? He supposed he’d have to deal with it. 

He was, after all, extremely relieved to be alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ARTOO TO THE RESCUE! I needed a way to bring the best droid ever back into the story, and if it's a little weird, oh well. But hey! Piett lives!  
> Now we need to find out if the Naberries survive...  
> Thanks for reading, guys! Seriously. I love you all. <3


	28. Grandmother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke, Aphra, and Darth Vader head off to save the Naberries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to KaelinaLovesLomaris as always for looking over!

Ruya woke to the sound of screaming. 

She’d been having a pleasant night of sleep for the first time in days; she hadn’t even dreamed. It was as if everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours had been wiped from her mind; she only slept.

Then, suddenly, without warning, something woke her up. Startled, she sat upright, only for pain to flash through her back; the dragons, that’s right, she’d been attacked, but she was with her grandmother in the hospital now...and she was safe. 

But someone was screaming.

Actually, she realized, many people were screaming. 

It was outside the room, Ruya realized, somewhere all over the sixth floor--someone was in danger. 

Was it Luke? She hoped it wasn’t Luke. 

Ignoring the pain in her back--it was oddly easy to do--Ruya turned to look at her grandmother, who was lying down in the bed next to her. 

“Grandmother,” she whispered, unsure if the woman was sleeping. 

To her surprise, though, her grandmother actually sat up and looked at her. 

“I’m here, Ruya,” she said. “I--”

She broke off suddenly in a terrible hacking cough; fortunately, it didn’t last too long. Ruya didn’t know why her grandmother hadn’t received treatment until now, but maybe it had to do with the power being…

It was bright in here. 

The power was back on. 

Was that why people were screaming? No, that wouldn’t make sense. 

“Grandmother,” Ruya said, trying not to look afraid, because she _wasn’t,_ “what’s going on?”

Grandmother pursed her lips for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to speak.

“I do not know for certain,” she said. “But it is my suspicion that the dragons have broken into the hospital, and they are killing people. Or at least, they are attempting to.”

Ruya took several deep breaths, struggling to remain calm. Her grandmother had told her once that she thought Ruya was a big girl and would be wiser if information was not kept from her...but only if she was brave enough to handle it. 

“Okay,” she said, checking in the blankets for the blaster...but her mother must have taken it from her. “Okay, well, I...I don’t have my blaster--”

“You should not have been carrying one,” Grandmother said, rather tartly. “You are ten.” Ruya opened her mouth. “And before you say that Aunt Padme carried a blaster when she was ten, she was training to be a senator. Are you training to be a senator?”

“No,” Ruya said. “It sounds boring.” 

“Well, then. You don’t need to carry a blaster. Anyway,” Grandmother said with a mischievous smile, pulling one out from under her pillow, “I have mine.” 

Ruya’s eyes widened. Her grandmother was...well, she didn’t know how old she was, but she was _old._ She didn’t think she would carry any _weapons._

“Grandmother,” Ruya said, “you’re cool.” 

Grandmother’s smile widened. “I would like to believe so, my dear.” 

The screaming continued outside, but Ruya found that she was less afraid, now that they had some kind of defense against the monsters. She found herself looking around the room; for some reason, something seemed out of place. 

The door, she realized. It was closed. 

It had been open when she went to sleep. 

Usually, she wouldn’t have found that strange; especially not now, because having the door closed was a good thing. But in the last few days, she’d grown even more observant than usual. 

“Hey,” she said. “Was someone in here?”

“Hmm.” Grandmother eyed the door. “No.” 

Ruya scowled. It was obvious her grandmother was lying; she’d hesitated too long. Also, the door had clearly been open, and her grandmother was not allowed out of bed. 

“You’re lying,” she said. “I can handle it.” 

Grandmother sighed, coughed slightly--Ruya wished she wouldn’t cough so much--and turned to look at her granddaughter. There was something in her eyes that made her look incredibly wise. 

“Not this time,” she said, half to herself. “Not this time, Ruya.” 

Ruya’s eyes widened. So this was a _big_ secret, was it? 

“Okay,” she said, leaning back against the pillows. “Fine. I’ll figure it out myself.” She sighed. “I just wish people would tell me stuff, I--”

“Ruya.” 

The tone in her grandmother’s voice was not to be argued with. Forgetting her annoyance, Ruya turned to look at her. 

“What?” she asked, but Grandmother put a finger to her lips, her head tilted toward the door. 

Ruya listened; but for once, there was nothing. She frowned. What was the problem, then? If there were no screams…no sound...

No, that was not exactly true. There were no screams; but if Ruya paid attention, very, very carefully, she could hear something tapping along the floor. It wasn’t very loud; it was almost like the clicking of a pen. But it was definitely noticeable, a constant _tip-tap, tip-tap_ sort of sound. 

And it was coming steadily closer to their room. 

It might be a person walking, Ruya thought; but none of the doctors or nurses or assistants walked like that. No, it could only be...a dragon. 

Terror. She looked at her grandmother. 

“Ruya,” Grandmother said without looking at her, “get up and climb under your bed.” 

Nodding quickly, Ruya did as she was told. Her back stung, she could barely restrain herself from crying out; but she did it anyway. Only when she was safely hidden under the bed, the blankets covering her from anyone’s sight, did she relax. 

_But Grandma,_ she thought. _She can’t leave her bed…_

At least she had the blaster. 

But then she remembered seeing Mama fight the big dragon--which, admittedly, had been the most awesome thing she’d ever seen Mama do--and, she realized, the blaster had done nothing. 

Ruya swallowed. They were going to die.

  
  


Aphra was glad she didn’t work for Darth Vader anymore. She had several complaints. First of all--she remembered this now--he walked _way_ too fast. Sure, he was over two meters tall, but even for a guy of that size, he _still_ walked fast. Couldn’t he slow down? Just a little bit? Especially when Luke was struggling to even walk at all? 

But then, he didn’t like Luke. That made sense. 

The second complaint was just how _dramatic_ he was. Sure, she’d known this before, but for some reason Vader’s drama was even worse than it had been while she’d worked for him. It was almost like...every time he was around Luke, he got more dramatic. Just about everything out of his mouth _had_ to sound like the proclamation of a god, something you had to either do or get killed for it, which...she had to admit she didn’t agree with too much. She didn’t tend to hold many philosophical opinions--most of the time, _those_ got you killed, too--but one thing she knew was that everything was, as one said, subjective. Everything was up to your opinion. 

That was her entire problem with the...tension, if she could call it that, between Darth Vader and Luke. He kept saying he wanted to “take Luke with him,” and according to Luke, it was because he wanted to make the kid a...whatever he was, she forgot the word. It was the opposite of a Jedi. But then, Luke was obviously a Jedi. Neither of them _had_ to be a Jedi or a...not-Jedi. A Sith! That was it. Well, that was a stupid word anyway. But they didn’t have to be a Jedi or a Sith, it was just what they chose to be. Couldn’t they just accept they were different and move on with their lives? 

Anyway. 

The third complaint she had was how he kept threatening to kill her. Sure, she tended to run her mouth off, but he’d only gotten Luke on Bespin--or almost gotten him--because of how _she_ had helped him all those years. Where was the thanks? More than that, where was the reward? She’d kill for some money, any money, but the least he could do was thank her. 

Well. She supposed that was the fourth complaint. He had _no_ sense of gratitude. 

Those were the reasons she hadn’t worked with Vader in years; those, and others. The man was just unpleasant. Clearly, the only reason she’d worked for him was the money; the job had paid _incredibly_ well. And after that...well. She’d run out of money pretty fast. She hadn’t even wanted to go to Felucia in the first place; it had been too far out of the way. Where she was supposed to go was Corellia to pick up her latest shipment of money, find a nice place with a bunch of smugglers and thieves and pirates and whatnot--in other words, _her_ type of people--and relax for a while. But Jamet had promised her two thousand credits, just to look into the whereabouts of the scientists. 

But of course, nothing ever went as planned, and the scientists had turned out to be a bunch of idiots who’d decided to resurrect dragons. And now, she was helping to save a bunch of people she’d run into while dealing with the idiots, and while doing it, she was in the company of a Jedi and a Sith, who were definitely _not_ her type of people. 

Hopefully, after this was done, she’d escape, head off to Corellia, and never hear about the Rebellion or the Empire again. 

Fat chance of that. This war had spread too far. But she was going to try. 

“Hey,” she piped up, “where’d you last see the dragons? How do we know they went after the Naberries?”

There was a second of silence, during which Aphra registered that she should have kept her mouth shut. 

“If you are going to accompany us,” Vader said icily, “and you wish to live, then you will refrain from asking useless questions and simply wait until your talents are of use.” 

Aphra swallowed. She knew that tone, all right; she’d heard it after every failed mission...including the one that had gotten her jettisoned into space. 

Then, fortunately, Luke spoke up. 

“Hey,” he said, seeming as if he were trying to make himself sound more confident than he felt, “you--you don’t have to say that. I had the same question.”

More silence, and Aphra was suddenly worried for Luke; she turned to give him a look, but he was staring straight ahead. Maybe he was of use to Vader _now,_ but that didn’t mean--

“I can sense them,” Vader said at last. “And I believe that the Naberries’ room is straight ahead. Once we turn this corner, we will know if they are in danger.” 

What the hell? He’d actually answered him? 

Aphra frowned. Something was going on. She hadn’t seen these two interact much, but what she knew of them told her that they were enemies. They had nothing in common; faced with the dragons, they were merely going according to the phrase “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” 

And yet...that didn’t hold with how Vader was reacting. Something was up. 

Or else, she reasoned, Vader was only playing nice so Luke would go with him without a struggle. 

“Careful,” Vader said after a few seconds, and she knew that he was only speaking to Luke; she was not welcome in this conversation. “In a moment we will know--”

“Yeah, I know,” Luke snapped, somewhat irritably. 

Aphra blinked. Again...odd. 

She wasn’t going to say anything. She wanted to, oh how she wanted to; but it was obvious that any question would get her killed for sure. She’d have to wait for when--if--Luke was alone, and ask him then. 

But until that moment...she’d have to figure it out herself. 

They slowed--or rather, _Vader_ slowed--until they were walking at something of a normal pace, in single file: Vader, then Luke, then Aphra. Then they turned the corner. 

Dragons. 

That was the only thing Aphra’s brain registered before the black wall that was the Sith Lord’s back stopped dead; unfortunately, Luke had been looking down, probably focused on walking with his injured leg, which meant that he bumped solidly into Vader and Aphra’s shoes squeaked on the floor as she quickly stopped herself from bumping into _Luke._

Luke stumbled backward quickly, as if trying to shake off the awkward moment, and with difficulty, Aphra stifled her laughter. That would _definitely_ not go over well. 

Vader, however, didn’t seem affected in the least. He held up a hand, meant to stop them from moving forward, and tilted his head. In response, Luke frowned, as if he’d just heard something he objected to; except that neither of them had said anything. 

_Oh, great. It’s a bunch of Force shit again._

What were they doing? Communicating silently? 

Aphra made a mental note of that. For enemies, that was also odd. 

After a few seconds, Luke turned to look at Aphra and slid closer to her; he wanted to speak, she realized, and he wanted to not be heard. 

“Okay,” he said, muttering out of the corner of his mouth. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You don’t have to agree to any of it; you just have to do it. Got it?”

Aphra raised an eyebrow at Vader’s back. Oh, she got it, all right. 

  
  


Jobal’s heart monitor, recently returned to power, beeped a steady rhythm. The dragons had not yet come closer. The child was under the bed. Ruya was safe, at least as safe as she could be if the dragons came in. And she was going to be protected. 

Not because Jobal held the blaster. It was a useful weapon, but it would be of no use against these things. She didn’t know much about these things, but if they had managed to injure her granddaughter, and had been able to fight her daughter, a rogue archaeologist, and a Sith Lord at once and still live...blasters would do nothing. No, Jobal’s blaster would be of no use against the creatures. 

But she knew that Ruya would be protected. At least, she had a _very strong feeling_ about it. 

Because, if any part of Anakin Skywalker existed within that monster, he would return to save them. He would not be able to let his wife’s family be murdered. 

Jobal had had her doubts; she _still_ had her doubts. But after speaking with him, after throwing question after question at him about his own son, about her daughter...she had seen that there was a part of him that was deeply mired in guilt. He tried to hide it; but it was there. And then, despite his constant petty denials, when she had called him by his name, he had turned back.

That had been...satisfying. But it had also proven something to her. 

If her family was in danger, he would save them. 

He might be grumpy about it. He would most certainly be grumpy about it, and make all sorts of threats before and after, and never speak to her again. But he would do it. 

And yet, if he did not...if he did not return...there was a window, which Ruya had shown earlier that she was willing to climb out of. 

It meant, of course, that she herself would die. But she had no problem with that. Before she died, she had wanted to make peace with her daughter’s death, and she had done that. She did wish she could meet her grandson; that was regrettable. But she could not control everything. If it was her time to die, then she would die with all the grace of a Naberrie. 

So Jobal remained, her hand mostly steady, and tried not to fear. 

“Grandma,” came a soft voice--Ruya. Worry flashed through her. 

Jobal didn’t move. “Ruya. Be silent.” 

“Grandma--Grandma, blasters can’t--”

“I know, dear.” Her hand trembled slightly; she resisted the urge to cough. Her chest was growing tighter by the minute. “Stay quiet.” 

Under the crack at the bottom of the door, there was a shadow visible. 

Ruya made a small noise and then fell silent. 

Despite herself, despite her willingness to die, Jobal hoped that it was Anakin. Or else, possibly, her grandson. 

But then the tapping sound returned, and she knew it was not. 

This was an intelligent dragon, she realized. It was testing for sound on the other side. 

Then, something scraped along the door; compared to everything else, it was so loud, so sudden, that she almost dropped the blaster. But she didn’t...partially because the dragon had just tried to get in, and it had not been able to. 

Another scrape followed. The door stayed shut. 

Would they try to knock down the door? There was a chance of it. These were durasteel-reinforced doors, but that might not stop them. 

“Ruya,” she said quietly. “If they get in, climb out the window.” 

“But,” Ruya whispered, “you--”

“ _Ruya.”_

She did not want to use that tone, but she also did not want her granddaughter to die. 

“Yes, Grandma.” 

Another scrape--the shadow disappeared. The heart monitor beeped slightly faster.

Then, something landed on the floor, outside the door. A keycard, smeared in blood. 

_No,_ Jobal thought, in disbelief. _They cannot--they are not_ that _intelligent--_

But, as a scaly head descended to pick it up, _gently,_ in its jaws, Jobal realized that she was wrong. They _were_ that intelligent. 

“Ruya, go.” 

This time, Ruya moved without protest, scampering out from under the bed and running to the window. Jobal only heard her; her head had not turned from the door. So far, so far nothing had happened, but--

The door creaked. 

No, that wasn’t supposed to happen, they’d just pushed against it--

Then there was the sound of something sliding along the door outside. After a moment, Jobal realized that they were trying to figure out...how to unlock the door, to slide the keycard through and _open the door._

But they couldn’t do it. She could tell that they were trying, and so far they had not--

There was the faintest sound, a soft chime, from outside the door. 

_They had opened it._

The door was open, just a crack; for a moment nothing happened, and Jobal risked a glance at Ruya. Her granddaughter had just reached the window, and was pushing it open. 

A sudden noise, and Jobal looked back just in time to see the door open abruptly; something had _nudged_ it. 

And now there was one eye, and half of a scaly head, looking right at her. 

Jobal tightened her grip on the blaster, trying to ignore the way her chest was tightening. She must remain calm, absolutely calm; she could not lose control. She couldn’t risk a heart attack on top of everything else. 

The dragon headbutted the door again; it came open a few more inches. Strangely, the creature hadn’t completely entered...it seemed to be trying to figure out if it could. 

“Grandma,” Ruya called suddenly--Jobal didn’t dare look at her-- “Grandma, the window’s stuck!” 

_No._ Jobal did look, finally; the window was open, but not enough for her granddaughter to slip through. 

_No,_ she thought. _No, no--_

“Keep trying,” she said, turning back to the door just in time for the dragon to knock the door completely open. No... _dragons._ There was another one right behind it. 

Jobal stared for one second, trying to calm her racing heart with increasing difficulty; the dragons stared back, yellow eyes unblinking. 

Then, with identical squeals, they charged. 

“Grandma!” Ruya screamed, but Jobal ignored her. Instead, focusing her blaster on the point in between the first dragon’s eyes, she fired. The shot did nothing, as she’d suspected, but she continued to fire again, and again, and again, because there was _nothing else_ she could do, and Naberries did not go down without a fight. 

Her shots, however, seemed only to make the dragons angrier; and they ran straight for her bed, ready for the kill. 

As they closed in, as time seemed to slow, Jobal only had space for one thought: _Anakin had not come._

Dropping the blaster, Jobal looked over at Ruya. The child had gotten the window open after all, and was sitting on the ledge--but beyond that, she had not moved. Dimly, Jobal registered a soft beeping that meant that her heart was pumping blood at an unhealthy rate; but it did not matter. She was going to die before anything happened. 

“Go,” she ordered before turning back to look at the first dragon, which was mere meters away; the other was behind it, waiting patiently. This one seemed to have gotten the go-ahead for the kill. 

Jobal stared at it steadily. Her daughter, she was sure, had stared death in the eyes, and she would do the same. 

Distantly, she heard Ruya scream. 

_I am sorry, child,_ she thought, thinking of Padmé. _I had hoped to prove you right about him._

The dragon opened its mouth, descended toward her--

And missed her _completely._

Jobal Naberrie, for the first time in years, was shocked. The dragon had missed because it was _thrown bodily_ over her head by...by an unseen force. By…

The heart monitor sped up once again, but for a completely different reason.

And that reason was the huge, black-clad form of Darth Vader-- _Anakin Skywalker,_ her _son-in-law--_ as he stormed into the room, followed by an unknown woman and…and a young man, the spitting image of everything Anakin had been, except smaller, and gentler…

A young man who could only be her grandson, Luke Skywalker. 

  
  


Luke didn’t know why Vader had taken so long. They had arrived at the Naberries’ room just as the dragons started to enter; that would have been the perfect time for them to attack, but Vader had waited. He’d tried asking him, multiple times--in his mind, of course--why they were waiting, had told him that the Naberries might be dying, that the dragons were _in the room now,_ but the answer had always been no. Luke had started to wonder if Vader was doing this just for the sake of tormenting him, to listen to the Naberries die without being able to help-- _like the vision,_ he remembered, _Ruya’s always in that room screaming and I can’t help her--_ and had been about to take his chances and run forward anyway, when the Sith Lord finally, _finally_ moved. 

This was, coincidentally, the same moment that Luke had heard the dragons cry out and run forward; maybe that had been on purpose. These were intelligent creatures, after all. 

The next few moments were a blur. Vader had burst into the room, Luke and Aphra right on his heels, and the dragon charging at the first bed, containing an older woman--not Sola, Sola’s not anywhere, that’s got to be Ruya’s grandmother--had been sent flying into the opposite wall. 

For one second, it was as if time stopped. The elderly woman in the bed, seeming so frail and worn except for the fact that there was a blaster lying about an inch from her hand, looked straight at him; and for a moment, Luke had the distinct impression that she knew him. 

This was the second time--Sola knew who she was as well. _Why? What was it with the Naberries?_

Luke found himself staring back at her, drawn to the intense, dark eyes he knew he’d seen before, to the...to the _something_ in her face, a look, which was familiar as well, but...in a completely different way. Luke knew instantly, whether by the Force or something else, that he had some sort of connection with this woman, and he needed to find out why. 

Then it was all over. The second dragon was definitely still there, and she spun with a hiss; which was fine, except that her tail swung into the woman’s bed and tipped it onto the floor. Monitors and equipment beeped, and the woman was sent crashing onto the floor. 

Luke moved in an instant. His left arm still ached from the new wound in his shoulder, and of course there was the older, and worse, wound in his leg, but he didn’t have to move; the dragon was right in front of him. He didn’t have time to think about which part of the Force to use--he was already stretching out a hand, reaching with the Force, and the second dragon was thrown away as well. It landed half across the room and was on its feet in an instant; but Aphra was already on top of it, firing with her blaster. Fortunately, she’d had the sense not to use that weapon of hers--it was useful, but they shouldn’t do any damage to this hospital unless they needed to. 

Luke looked around the room. The elderly woman was on the floor, gasping for breath, Vader was choking the other dragon to death, where was--Ruya. He found her immediately; she was sitting on the window ledge, curled in on herself. 

And, Luke realized as the second dragon roared, the blaster having done nothing to it: she was the only thing blocking them from hurling these things out of the hospital entirely. 

“Ruya!” he shouted. “Get down!” 

Ruya’s head snapped up. For one second she looked absolutely terrified; then she seemed to get control of herself and moved forward, flinging herself out of the way of the first dragon and underneath a table.

Aphra shouted suddenly, and Luke spun towards her, almost knocking himself over in the process; but this time it was easy to ignore his pain, because Aphra’s blaster was on the floor, and her sleeve was stained red. 

The second dragon, looking now more delighted than enraged, stalked toward her. 

“Uh, Luke,” she said, “a little help over here would be nice!” 

Luke almost reached out--but then, as anger and pain washed over him, he stopped. There had to be a way, there just _had_ to be a way to not specifically use the Dark Side; he was pretty sure he’d just done it earlier, when he’d thrown the dragon away. 

Furthermore, Vader was still choking the other dragon, which was snarling and struggling and very clearly fighting him, but which was almost dead. And that wouldn’t be a problem, it shouldn’t be a problem...but suddenly he was overwhelmed by a desire to stop his-- _just admit it--_ his father from using the Dark, as well. If he timed it right...

As he had the thought, sudden confidence flowed through him. When was the last time he’d felt _that?_

“Sure thing, Aphra,” he said, and after waiting a millisecond for the dragons’ positions to line up, he stretched out his uninjured arm and _shoved._

There was a moment’s delay, and then, with a squeal, the second dragon flew through the air, striking its companion in midair. The other dragon was torn from Vader’s grasp, and after an added push from Luke, they both crashed through the window and fell from the hospital. 

Luke relaxed his grip on the Force, took several deep breaths...and grinned. There was no anger, no fear; he’d completely avoided using the Dark Side. And, best of all, he felt good. For the first time in an entire month, he felt... _good._

Aphra ran to the window, no doubt to see what had happened to the two dragons; but Vader didn’t. He merely stepped back, looking as shocked as Luke had ever seen him. For a moment, Luke was afraid that he would say something about it, because there was no way he _hadn’t_ realized what Luke had done...but for several moments still, he said nothing. 

“An...interesting display of power in the Force,” he said at last, somewhat stiffly. “But impressive, nonetheless.” 

Luke blinked, and...and that was a _compliment,_ wasn’t it. Vader...had actually...complimented him. He stood there, waiting for the inevitable rebuke sent through the Force, waiting for Vader to tell him he was weak, that the dragons were alive and it was his fault...but there was nothing. 

Wait, _what?_

Was he...did he really…

“Uh...thank you,” he said, sounding _just_ as stiff as the Sith Lord. 

Then he fell silent. He didn’t know what else to say; and, it appeared, neither did Vader. 

“The dragons survived,” Aphra said, “but they look wounded. One of them is kind of hobbling.” 

Vader turned immediately, as if he needed literally anything else to think about. “Where? Where are they going?” 

“They’re, uh, well, they--” Amazing how Vader had that terrifying effect on everyone; Aphra’s tone changed to _nervous_ so fast Luke was astounded. “They’re heading toward the jungle. Into it.” 

“Very good.” Vader spun, and Luke realized he was going to take him to his ship now, the threat was gone; but suddenly he was conflicted. In the last hour, Vader had shown several instances of...well, _humanity._ He’d gone after him. He’d saved his life from the dragons. He’d had several chances to call Luke weak for not using the Dark Side. He’d listened to him when he demanded to save the Naberries, and finally...he’d given him a compliment. The compliment had been stiff, it had sounded utterly formal; but it was at least a sign that there was...a _father,_ buried underneath the hard bitterness and anger that usually existed. 

What if...going with him...meant finding out if that humanity was really there?

 _No, you idiot,_ whispered a voice in the back of his head. _He’s playing nice, he’s being intentionally nice just so that you’ll be easier to turn._

No. He wouldn’t turn, he wouldn’t--and he’d proven, just now, that the Light Side was _not_ weak. And...and maybe that was what Vader wanted...but Luke suddenly realized just how badly he needed Vader to be a father, how terribly...what if there was a tiny chance of that? 

He didn’t want to be trapped on the _Executor._ He wanted to see his friends, wanted to rescue Han...but if Vader had been persuaded to save the _Naberries,_ who he didn’t even know...maybe he’d rescue Han, too. 

Luke didn’t want to go. But if he had no other choice, maybe he’d better accept it. 

Vader tilted his head suddenly, and Luke hoped desperately that he’d kept all those thoughts shielded.

“You...remember our deal,” he rumbled, but this time...it didn’t sound as terrifying as usual. _As_ terrifying. 

Luke nodded, deciding to be careful with his words; anything, he’d learned, could make Vader snap. “Yes. I remember.” 

Instantly, Luke _felt_ the tension ease, sensed those impenetrable shields slip for just a moment to let one singular emotion escape: relief. That was all he felt. It wasn’t a Light emotion, certainly; but it wasn’t Dark, either. 

Still, compared to the terror of the last three days, it was a step forward. 

“Then we must leave,” Vader said. 

Slowly, half against his will, Luke nodded again. _Make an effort,_ he told himself, _if you make an effort maybe he will too…_

“Yes,” he said again. 

Vader strode forward, almost triumphantly; and then the door flew open. 

“Ruya!” shouted Sola, terror in her eyes. In an instant, Ruya had scrambled out from under the desk and was running toward her parents. 

“We tried to get here quickly,” said her husband, “but the halls were so crowded--”

“She’s okay,” Luke said. “We showed up just in time.”

His gaze shifted to Luke. “You’re...Luke Skywalker, aren’t you?”

Luke nodded. “You’re Sola’s husband?”

“I’m…” He looked as if he was about to say something else, then stopped. Yes, Luke realized, the Naberries really did all know him. “I’m Amil.” 

Luke smiled. “Nice to meet you.” 

_“Luke.”_

The voice was feeble, and weary, and came from somewhere to Amil’s right, and--Luke had forgotten the elderly woman, he realized, Sola’s mother. 

“Mother,” said Sola, straightening. “Mother!” 

“It’s okay,” Luke said quickly, “I’ll check on her.” 

Sola didn’t have to be worried for much, it wasn’t as if her mother had been wounded; but then, as Luke approached, he realized that the bed had fallen on top of the woman. 

_No,_ he thought, limping toward her, _no, no--_

He didn’t trust his own strength to lift the bed, so he used the Force instead. It took several seconds of intense concentration, but after several seconds, he was able to tip the bed off of Sola’s mother and back onto all four legs. 

Careful of his injury, Luke got to his knees and turned the woman onto her back. She had called his name, just a moment before--but now, she looked unconscious again. 

“Hey,” he said, feeling at her neck for a pulse; it was there, it was certainly there, but beating erratically fast. “Hello? Can you hear me?” 

There was a moment of silence...and then, the woman’s eyes blinked open. They were a warm brown, like Ruya’s and Sola’s, but unfocused; she didn’t seem to be looking right at him. 

“Hello?” he tried again. “Can...can you see me?” 

The woman gasped, as if she’d remembered him; she opened her mouth. Then, she closed it, seeming to focus fully on him, and opened it again. 

“No,” she murmured. “Not him. Not yet.” 

Luke frowned, but decided to ignore it. “We need to get you back into your bed. Your family’s here--”

“Family,” she said, quietly; she seemed delirious. “Yes. Family.” 

That sounded...wrong. Something wasn’t right. 

“Sola,” Luke called. “Something--something’s wrong with her--”

There was a spark, in the Force, of _intense guilt._

The door opened in an instant, and Sola was back in the room, running to the woman’s side; but, strangely, she did not look at her daughter. Instead, she only looked at Luke. 

“We have to help her up,” Luke said. “Something’s wrong, she’s delirious; I mean, the bed only fell on her, she wasn’t bitten, but--”

“She was hospitalized because of pneumonia,” Sola said quietly, and Luke could tell she was trying to cover up her sorrow--no, not sorrow. She would not die. “And she’s had heart complications for months anyway--”

“No,” Luke said. “She can’t--”

“Luke.” 

There was his name again. She knew his name. 

Luke looked back at the woman. “You know who I am.” 

She nodded, slowly. 

“Do you--” Sola knew, she knew, and now he might have another person to talk to about it. “Do you know who--”

Again, the woman nodded. 

“She knows,” Sola said. “Mother--”

“Sola,” the woman croaked. “I love you.”

Sola nodded vigorously, her face covered with tears. “So do Amil, and Ruya. You…” She smiled sadly. “You’ll see her again.” 

_See her again?_ But she _wasn’t_ going to die! 

“No,” Luke said. “No, no--listen, the power’s back on, we--we can get you some help. We--”

“No...Luke.” There was a hand on his arm, forcing him to meet her eyes. From across the room, Luke sensed Vader’s apprehension, sensed a multitude of many hidden emotions rise in him, but he couldn’t begin to guess what they were. “You must listen to me. Family…” She smiled. “It is...difficult. I know this, and...and of course you do. More than anyone. But regardless of the circumstances, Luke...family will find a way.”

Luke stared. How...what...clearly, she was talking about Vader, but _how did she know--_

“You will probably not even want to believe what I’m saying,” said the woman, and still Luke couldn’t understand: why was she saying all this to _him?_ “I wouldn’t blame you. But I, at least, I know…” She pulled him closer, until only he could hear what she said to him. “It...may be buried deep...perhaps too deep to emerge again, but... _there is still good in him.”_

Luke froze. 

He barely even felt the kiss that Sola’s mother planted on his forehead. 

Barely noticed that Sola herself bent over her mother, to embrace her, and then began sobbing. 

Barely noticed that Amil and Ruya had emerged into the room. 

Barely noticed the tide of _fury_ from Vader himself, and...why would he be angry? It didn’t make sense, but--

_There is good in him._

How? How did she _know?_

What did she know about them? And how...how could _she_ know, when Luke--when he hadn’t known? 

Well. Perhaps that was in the past, because Luke had felt something. But still, that something was so small, so unnoticeable…

What was going on?

No. This was not his family; this was Sola’s family, Ruya’s family. It was their loss, and the situation was about them. 

“Sola,” he said, placing a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry.” 

She turned toward him, face wet with tears. “Sorry? Oh--if only you knew--”

Luke sensed Vader reach for him, as if he was suddenly aware of the conversation, sensed a wave of what was almost _panic_ from him; but he didn’t care. 

He looked at Sola. “Who...who was she?” 

Sola looked away from him and down at the woman who was still on the ground, dead not from a dragon, but from...from heart complications. It seemed unfair. 

Then she looked back at Luke, fresh tears on her face. “She was your grandmother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...Jobal didn't make it. I didn't want to have to do that, I was definitely sad writing it, but...she will definitely continue to be referenced and mentioned in the story; her death happens for a reason.


	29. In Memory Of An Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader finally has to confront the past; Veers and Piett make a new ally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to my beta, KaelinaLovesLomaris!

“Firmus!” Red-faced and shouting, General Veers wheeled around the corner, boots skidding on the floor. “Firmus, where are--”

He came to a stop. Piett was standing; there was a long gash torn down his back, and his face was covered with dirt and bleeding scratches, but he was most certainly alive...and at his side was a blue astromech droid. 

Oh, and then there was the actual _dragon_ lying curled up on the floor. 

“What the--” Veers’ eyes widened. “What--”

“Calm down,” Piett said, and Veers didn’t think that was fair, because he’d barely started. “I’m all right. Well, minus a bit of pain in my back, but--”

“A bit of pain?” Veers echoed incredulously. “A _bit?_ Do you even realize--”

“Yes, I do,” Piett said wearily. “I know how close I came, I absolutely know. But, thanks to this little fellow--” He indicated the droid at his side. “I’m alive, and that is an _unconscious_ dragon so we’d better get out of here.” 

For the moment, Veers ignored him; he was too busy processing the fact that, according to Piett, an _astromech droid had knocked a krayt dragon unconscious._ He sputtered, and looked at the droid, who so far had been standing there innocently. 

“This droid?” he laughed. “ _This_ droid knocked out that dragon?” He shook his head. “I don’t believe it.”

In response, the droid waddled forward, reached out a tiny tool, and gave Veers a tiny electric prod. With a yelp, the general leaped backwards. 

“Bloody hell, droid,” he muttered. 

_Believe it, you piece of ass,_ the droid beeped at him. _Or I just might make you short-circuit the way I did to our unconscious friend over there._

The mystery of how in the galaxy a droid could have knocked out a dragon was beginning to make sense. Rubbing his knee, Veers looked up at Piett, who quickly stopped smiling. 

“What are _you_ laughing at?” Veers muttered. 

“Nothing, nothing. Now, as I said, that dragon is only unconscious--I don’t think electricity can fully kill it, and before you think of it, blasters can’t either--so we need to get out of here.” Piett smiled. “ _If_ you two can stop arguing, that is.”

Veers looked down at the astromech with a scowl. Droids were, of course, incapable of expressions, but he could have _sworn_ this one was mocking him. 

“Yes,” he grumbled, “we can.” He looked down at the droid. “We need to find Lord Vader. If you disagree, you’re going to have to leave.” 

The droid waited a minute, as if considering. 

_I agree,_ it said at last, and Veers cursed whoever had programmed it to say everything in that _sassy_ tone. _I have been trying to find him myself._

At that, Veers frowned. “What do you mean? _You’ve_ been trying to find _Darth Vader?_ Oh, piss off.” 

_You piss off,_ said the droid. 

“Now, Max,” Piett said, stepping in before either of them could say anything more, “if the droid is telling the truth and really is trying to find Lord Vader, wouldn’t he be a bit disappointed in us if we, ah, _melted down the droid?”_

“That wasn’t what I was going to do,” Veers snapped. Here he had chased down his friend, almost killed his ribs on the way, and in return he was being insulted and mocked by a _droid._

Piett raised his eyebrows. “Of course you weren’t.” 

“Let’s just get out of here,” Veers said, and then over his shoulder, he said, “And you’ll have to keep up, droid.” 

“I feel odd calling it ‘droid,’” Piett said as they walked. “What’s your number...er, droid?”

 _My full number is classified,_ was the droid’s reply. 

“Well,” Veers said, “he’s a cheerful little fellow, isn’t he?”

Piett ignored him. “Then, pray tell, what can we call you?”

_You can call me Artoo._

Piett heaved a sigh of relief. “All right. Thank you.” He smiled thinly. “Follow us, then...Artoo.” 

And so the strange party, made up of an Imperial Admiral, a General, and a very snarky astromech droid, made their way out of the facility. 

  
  


Vader moved, but it was too late. It was all _too late._ Jobal had died, because he had not acted fast enough, and then, while he had been busy trying to move past it, to distract himself from the bottomless well of self-loathing that existed inside him, an even worse thing had happened. 

Sola had told Luke the truth. 

Not the full truth, obviously--not that, nothing about his mother--but enough. He knew that Jobal had been his grandmother...so now it was only a matter of time before he figured it out, long before Vader had intended for him to know. He _would_ have told him. At some point, he would have told Luke who his mother had been, not _yet,_ but eventually; and now it had all been ruined. Now Sola had essentially told him; he’d heard it from someone else, long before he should have known, and she was free to tell him _her_ version of things. 

Before he could think, he was stalking towards them, ignoring Luke’s gasp, yanking Sola up by her arm for the sheer purpose of towering over her as he gave her a piece of his mind. 

“You _dare,”_ he hissed as Luke struggled to get to his feet. “You dare to tell him--to inform him of--”

“He should have been told before now,” Sola snapped. She didn’t seem afraid in the least, not outwardly; but he could sense that she really was terrified. He hadn’t seen an ounce of fear from her thus far, but at long last it was there. She was _terrified_ of him. 

_She knows what happened to her sister._

At that, he almost did kill her, even began to reach out with the Force by instinct--but two things stopped him. First, she already looked enough like...her, the resemblance shocking, and he was already responsible for the deaths of not only...her sister, but Jobal. And second, there was Luke’s cry of alarm, his fear that Sola would be killed. It was not possible that he’d worked out his relation to Sola already, but either way...for some reason or another, Luke liked Sola without knowing of their relationship; and if he killed her, Luke would never forgive him.

If he killed Sola, he would destroy any chance of his son ever joining him.

So, reluctantly getting a handle on his rage, he let go, and stepped back. He’d barely touched her, but Sola wheezed in a breath nonetheless; most likely, she’d already been panicking the moment he reached out. 

Then, she had the audacity to _smile_ at him. It was not a kind smile in any way. It was a smile of triumph. 

“You can’t kill me,” she said, as if realizing it for herself. “You _can’t.”_

“Be grateful,” Vader said in a low voice, recognizing that Aphra and Sola’s husband and daughter were still in the room. “Be _very grateful.”_

“Uh, Lord Vader--”

He _whirled_ on Aphra. He did not have any qualms about killing _her._

_Luke won’t forgive you, Luke won’t forgive you--_

_Luke would have to accept it,_ he thought stubbornly, but he had already made remarkable progress in the last few minutes. For now, he would refrain from indulging in certain...habits. 

“Leave,” he snarled at her. If she said _anything more--_

“Right, right,” she said, and he almost roared. “That’s almost _exactly_ what I was going to ask! Yeah,” she went on, as if sensing his rage, “I’ll get out of here. Uh…see you,” she added to Luke, almost as an afterthought. “You two have fun with...whatever you’ve got going on here.” 

She was onto them. 

Before he had a chance to say anything, she had hopped away from the window, saluted Sola, and dashed out the door. And that was a good thing, because, as _chatty_ as she was...if she _ever_ found out that Luke was his son…

Well. No protest of Luke’s would keep him from killing her. 

Still seething, still longing to take out his rage at Sola on _someone,_ he turned back to Luke. 

“Amil,” Sola said calmly; yes, she knew what was going on. “Amil, take Ruya out into the hall. I’ll be with you soon.” 

“You will _go with them,”_ Vader ordered her. 

“No,” Sola said, and suddenly he wished he _could_ kill her; realizing that he must have driven all the fear out of her, and he wished it would return. “I’m--well, you know. And I know the truth, I have to stay here.” 

“You’re finally going to tell me.” Luke must have finally gotten to his feet in a way that did not exacerbate his injuries, and he was back to being as obstinate as ever. “About my mother. Aren’t you?”

“If you demand it, then I will not tell you,” Vader told him sharply before wheeling back to Sola. A lie, because the answer would be obvious if he knew Jobal had been his grandmother, but Vader only wanted Luke to stop thinking about it, or at least to stop talking; forcing himself to think about the past was already painful enough. He did not want to have to think about it longer than necessary. 

“You are going to leave,” he told Sola, “and _I_ am going to tell him.” 

Sola cocked her head, as if to say, _Really?_

“And how do I know,” she said evenly, “that he will even have the full truth?”

“Yeah,” Luke piped up, and suddenly Vader remembered just how _much_ the boy had been lied to in his life, “how does she know? How do _I_ know?”

Vader could not deal with this, could not bear his son and his sister-in-law making demands of him when his rage wanted to get out of him in a way that demanded death, and he could not kill _either of them--_

Finally, fed up, he took hold of Sola’s arm and dragged her to the opposite corner of the room, where Luke could not hear what was said. 

“You have my word,” he growled at Sola, “that he will have the _truth._ Not the entire truth,” he went on as she opened her mouth. “I...I cannot do that. But he will have, at the least, _some of it.”_

“Fair enough,” Sola said, tearing her arm out of his grasp. “But how can I trust that you will? How can _he_ trust that you will? It’s your word against his; he never knew Pa--”

“Do not speak her name!” Vader thundered, then wondered how _he_ would be able to speak her name. 

Sola arched an eyebrow, as if she’d had the same thought. “All right, all right. But answer my question, please. I _will_ leave the room, but _only_ if I can trust that you will tell him the truth--”

“Of course you can,” Vader hissed. “I am the only reason that he knows I am his father at all.” 

Sola’s eyes widened. 

_“You_ told him?” she demanded, and he motioned for her to be quiet; for some reason, he did not want Luke to hear everything that Sola said to him. 

“Yes,” he ground out. “I did, because his guardians had seen fit to _lie_ to him.”

Sola took a step back, clearly processing the information, and it was incredibly difficult not to make her talk; they were running out of time, there were dragons everywhere, and the moment anyone else was in danger Luke would have an immediate reason to escape him once again. 

“Well,” she said at last. “I finally understand why he hates you so much.” 

_She is a Naberrie, she is a Naberrie, she looks like_ her, _you cannot kill her--_

“He,” Vader growled, “does _not_ hate me.” 

“Oh!” Sola snorted. “ _Really?_ An hour ago he almost broke down to me, what you told him clearly _destroyed him,_ he’s been thinking about it for a month, and now you’ve been making all kinds of demands--”

“It is not my fault,” Vader said, trying to find a way to end the conversation. “It is merely the truth, I can do nothing about it.” 

“Oh, right. You can try to be a _father_ instead of--” She broke off. “Never mind.” 

But he knew what she’d been about to say. It was obvious, even if he couldn’t sense it on her mind. 

“Instead of an enemy,” he said flatly. “Once again, that is not _my_ doing.” 

“I don’t care,” Sola said coolly, and not for the first time, he wished she _wasn’t_ related to--to--her sister. “But I can see you’re not going to change much in the future, so there’s no point arguing.” She gestured at Luke. “Tell him. And then...leave with him, or do whatever you want, but I can assure you it won’t be good for him.” 

Before Vader could even think of a response, she spun on her heel and marched out the door. 

Then, he was left alone with his son. 

“Uh,” said a voice behind him, and he turned around to see Luke standing there, leaning against the wall to take weight off his injured leg. “So, um, I hate to ask, but--”

He had figured it out. Of course he had. Vader could stop the boy from speaking, but he wouldn’t be able to stop him from thinking. It was obvious.

He should have told him--Luke should have learned it from his father--

Once again, Vader wished he could kill _someone._

“It was inevitable,” he growled, clenching his fists. “But tell me. What...have you _gleaned_ from the information that was given to you?”

“I…” Hesitation was the overwhelming emotion Vader was sensing from Luke; the boy was afraid, naturally, that his father would explode at anything he said. Vader realized, reluctantly, that he would have to restrain himself...for the time being. “Is... _was_ Jobal Naberrie...my grandmother?”

_This is the first boy she’s brought home!_

“Yes,” Vader ground out. 

“Then…” Luke’s eyes widened. “Sola is my aunt, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” he said again. So far, this was all right, but--

“Then…” Luke rubbed one hand over the other, looked away, as if he was uncomfortable...then, slowly, looked back up at Vader. “Then who was my mother?”

Damn. 

“She…” Vader tried to imagine himself saying the name, and failed. If he avoided that, it was all right; if he said it, he was speaking the name of the woman he had loved...the woman a _better man_ had loved...the woman he had killed…

“Why is it so hard?” Luke demanded, and Vader’s anger suddenly spiked. 

“Do _not_ speak of what you do not know,” he hissed, striding forward. “You cannot presume--cannot _possibly understand--”_

Fear tainted Luke’s presence, and he took a step backward, stumbled as his leg almost gave out, grabbed the counter. The look on his face, the way he looked up at Vader, reminded the Sith Lord that Luke did _not_ know, that it was not his son’s fault he had not been told everything...that he’d been afraid of him for so long, and he did _not_ want to see him terrified. 

_You harmed your wife, do_ not _harm your son--_

Slowly, slowly, and too reluctantly, Vader forced himself to relax. 

“It...is...difficult,” he said, feeling as though the words were forced out of him, “because--” Nothing. Why was it so hard? He only had to say one thing, one thing-- “I will tell you her name. That is all.” 

Numerous emotions flitted across Luke’s face: hope, curiosity, disbelief. Then he frowned. 

“No,” he said.

Once again Vader’s anger spiked. He wanted _more than that,_ of course he did; but it was painful enough to even _think_ of her, to look at Sola for more than a few seconds, to speak her name and twist a knife into his heart...how was he supposed to explain everything? The past was in the past, as he’d always told himself; but now Luke would force him to dredge up more of it, only twisting the knife further--

“Not--not more, you don’t have to tell me more than that,” Luke said quickly, and Vader realized he’d been mistaken; Luke was saying...Vader didn’t _have_ to tell him her name. 

And then Vader was torn; part of him was relieved, but the other part...he _wanted_ Luke to know, and he did not want _Sola_ to tell him. He just knew that she would give him an even worse opinion of his father than he already had, that she would tell him _her_ version of what had happened to her sister. 

Unless...Luke had already figured it out. 

“Ruya said something,” Luke went on, possibly emboldened by Vader’s lack of a response. “She mentioned…” He crossed his arms over his chest, wincing slightly as he moved his injured shoulder. “Just tell me one thing. How many siblings did Sola have?”

This. This he could answer, he could…

And yet even _that_ was hard, because it required him to speak of her, to _remember_ her, in some way. 

“What,” Luke scoffed. “Even that’s hard? I don’t believe it.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll just go ask--”

“No!” Vader snarled at him, more harshly than he’d intended to, not caring as alarm flashed through Luke’s eyes, and _by the Force,_ the second they were out of here he would begin instructing his son in the virtue of anger. Restraining himself in this way was far more difficult than he had ever anticipated. 

Luke had flinched again, but this time Vader ignored the guilt. 

“I...will tell you,” he said haltingly. “Give me a _moment.”_

Luke sighed, and Vader got the feeling that the boy was repressing his own emotions in turn. He was frustrated, impatient; he wanted to know, needed to know, because he had been denied so much information and he deserved to have _all of it,_ and yet...

 _Jobal was wrong. I cannot have an ordinary_ relationship _with him. I cannot be his idea of a father._

All the same, Vader pushed all the memories, all the horrible nightmares and visions and thoughts and dreams and _everything,_ from his mind. Then, he spoke. 

“A sister,” he said. “Sola Naberrie had one sister.” 

It was only seven words, but immediately upon uttering them, an image immediately struck him: the dining room of a sunlit house, overlooking a hill, and two young women, sisters, laughing. 

All of a sudden, Vader was overwhelmed by a sense that everything was closing in around him; his suit was too much, he needed to be free of it, he needed to be free of this room, this _conversation--_

No more, _no more, NO MORE!_

And suddenly, despite all his effort, his anger was about to explode out of him.

But, fortunately, the answer seemed to be enough for Luke; he gasped, eyes widening as he took a step back, looking around the room as he struggled to process the news. He had figured it out, and Vader had only begun to wonder how when he remembered one of his son’s many conversations with Ruya. She had mentioned something about her aunt. Vader had tried to ignore her, then, but...clearly Luke knew who...Senator Amidala had been. 

“She was my mother?” he whispered, looking up at Vader with tears in his eyes. “Padmé Amidala was my mother?”

_Don’t think about it--_

Tears were weak, tears were a sign of weakness, and no Sith Lord had a use for them. Vader opened his mouth to say it--

_I can go and fix up the baby’s room…_

He shut his mouth. 

_Come away with me._

_Let her go!_

_I_ cannot _let her go._

 _I have_ never _let her go._

“I…” Luke looked away. “You don’t have to answer.” 

_In your anger, you killed her._

Vader clenched a fist. _Your son..._ her _son, you cannot hurt her son..._

Three days, he reminded himself, desperate to get his attention off the past, he had three days.

“Yes,” he said, continuing to focus on the future, on what he was doing with Luke _now._ “That is all you need to know. The past holds nothing but pain. We must focus on the _future._ ” 

Abruptly, not wanting to _think_ any longer, he walked past Luke, toward the door...then stopped, and turned around. Luke had been trying, and so had he; perhaps if he did not phrase it as a demand, for once, his son would listen. In the future, he would realize that no one had any choice in what life gave them, that there was no point in trying to get others to be kind...but for today, for this moment, he would suffer to do it, if it meant Luke would come without a fight. 

“I am giving you a choice,” he said, despite every Sith teaching he knew telling him not to say it, “to come with me. Willingly.” 

Luke looked at him hesitantly, a thousand emotions in his eyes; he took a step forward, then a step back. It took every ounce of restraint Vader possessed not to step forward, seize his arm, and haul him along, but he made himself wait.

“Okay,” Luke said at last. He was uncertain, still afraid...but for the first time, the first time in three days, _he was willing._

If he had possessed the ability, Vader would have released a breath. 

Holding onto the wall, Luke took a tentative step with his injured leg; then he took another, walking almost shakily. Instinctively, Vader held out a hand to him, then cursed himself for it--just because he had told Luke all this did not mean he was going to coddle him--but it was too late. 

“I can walk on my own,” Luke said, almost testily, and Vader withdrew his hand. 

He was fighting through the pain himself. 

He’d _figured it out._

Vader felt, in that moment, nothing but pride, and allowed his shields to slip so that Luke could sense it. The reward was immediate: Luke’s eyes widened, the corners of his mouth turning up, and that was the first time he’d smiled at Vader. It was the tiniest of smiles--no one else would have even noticed it--but it counted, all the same. 

And suddenly Vader saw the way forward. So far he had pressured Luke into using the Dark Side, had demanded that he do it; but of course Luke was already afraid of him, and that only served to increase his hatred of his father even more. What he wanted was support, and while Vader could not give that, maybe it would work to show pride and encouragement as much as he could whenever Luke did something that Vader wanted. 

It was a small idea; maybe it wouldn’t even work. But it was a chance. 

Perhaps, Vader thought, _something_ in their relationship would be easy. 

  
  


Even with one arm, piloting the ship had been easy; Doctor Pandaki had done it many times with two hands, and he could do it now. He had flown many ships over the years, because despite working as a scientist, he also happened to be a good pilot. 

So he found the ship, happened not to run into any of his abominations, stopped it in front of the hospital...and waited. 

But Skywalker and Aphra did not appear. 

Perhaps they were merely taking it slow; the Rebel had been injured, after all...injured by the monster he had created. Luke Skywalker was, in a way, injured by Pandaki’s own hand. He had to do something about it...but they were leaving, at Aphra’s request. 

He could at least do _that._

 _My life is nothing,_ he thought to himself as he sat in the cockpit, his one hand on the controls. _My life is worthless, I’ve accomplished nothing...but destruction._

All he’d wanted to do was bring joy and happiness to families in this time of galactic strife...to children. His grandchildren were going to be the first to see his glorious creations. 

Instead, he’d ruined his own facility, killed some of his own employees, and unleashed a _terror_ on the world of Felucia. 

What had he become? 

Someone screamed. 

_The hospital._

Quickly, Pandaki sat up; but it couldn’t be his creations, it could not. So far only the hybrid, the Greater, and the Spitting krayts were loose; none of the others had escaped. If they were coming, he would have seen it…

Then a shadow appeared in front of the window. It was about two meters tall, prowling about like a giant bird…

Pandaki went cold. 

_The Canyons._

Of course. The most devious of the dragons, as well as the most recent to go extinct; that had not been by accident. They were intelligent, almost as intelligent as humans...they, out of all the dragons, would be able to enter the hospital rooms...and no one would be able to kill them…

But even as he had the thought, one came hurtling out the window, followed by another. 

_The Skywalker kid,_ he thought. _Or Vader himself. But he doesn’t care about others enough._

But now, Pandaki’s attention was on the dragons. They had just fallen from a fairly tall building. He had never tested velocity on these dragons, the small ones; he’d been afraid it would kill them, and would be a waste of DNA. Others might call them experiments, but...for the longest time, they had been the greatest joy of his life. He could not have done that. 

So he watched, perfectly still, as the dragons fell. 

They fell, straight through the air, at least a hundred feet; and, miraculously, they seemed to be in control of the situation. Within seconds, he could see that the one in front had locked her head right on the spot she wanted to land; curving her tail underneath her, she spread her limbs, slowing the fall just enough to land on her feet. The other, having done the same thing, was right behind her. 

_Terrifying,_ thought the logical part of him. 

_I have to write this down,_ whispered the scientist part. 

But now _he_ was in danger, he realized, because the dragons were coming _straight for him._ Pandaki froze, never moving a muscle; but he knew it wouldn’t do anything. Only the Greaters fell for that trick. The Canyons, due to their smaller size, had had to evolve to be much, much smarter.

And then, of course, he’d been stupid enough to combine both of them. 

_That dragon should have died, that hybrid should have never been created…_

Pandaki remained still, expecting the death he deserved, as the dragons continued to run, their footsteps much lighter than their relatives, across the earth...they were coming right for the ship…

They were gone. 

They’d leaped over it. 

Amazed, and relieved, Pandaki spun back the other way, anxious to see what they’d done. He half expected it was a trick, something to throw him off guard; the Canyon krayts would do that. They _had_ done it, in testing, and had nearly killed one of his employees. 

But the dragons were running in the opposite direction. 

They were running, Pandaki realized, into the jungle. 

He couldn’t do anything now. They were out of his hands. He’d just have to sit back...wait for Skywalker and Aphra…

But those dragons were intelligent...and as far as Pandaki was concerned, that hybrid was in the jungle, too. The Greater wouldn’t have done anything. But these others...they were on another level. 

And who better to find out what they were up to than their creator? 

It was time to be a man. Time not only to admit his mistake, but to fix it. 

Quickly, Pandaki scribbled a note and left it, in the pilot’s seat, for his two companions to find. Then, without so much as a backward glance at the hospital, he had left the ship and was running for the jungle. 

  
  


He was going with Darth Vader. 

He knew who his mother had been. 

Those two thoughts, both incredibly complicated, eclipsed Luke’s general thought process as he followed Vader out of the Naberries’ room, past the Naberries themselves, and through the halls of the hospital. It was terrifying, and it was _wonderful._ He’d given in, done what he had said he would never do...but he had also learned the one thing that had been on his mind, forever, since Bespin. He knew it was bad news to go with Vader. 

But maybe the second thing would make it less painful. 

Maybe the second thing, the identity of his mother, meant...it would not be painful at all. Because it meant that Darth Vader had loved someone, once. Luke had worried about that himself; he’d spawned all kinds of terrible ideas in his mind, ruminated over how bad it could have been...those had been part of his nightmares, too. 

But if his mother had been _Padmé Amidala,_ everything was different. Senator Amidala, according to Leia, had been a staunch defender of democracy, a brilliant woman driven by compassion and hope for the future. 

She was everything, Luke realized, that _he_ aspired to be. 

If Vader had loved her enough to...to sire a child...maybe it meant something else. And the fact that his father was willing enough to open up to him _this much,_ to give him a _choice--_

Did it mean Vader was changing? 

It was a small chance, the very smallest of chances...but it was a chance, all the same. 

It was terrifying, going with Vader willingly. But it was better than being dragged with him, than being taken as a prisoner, than going with _no hope_ that anything would be better. 

However, there was a problem when Ruya saw what was happening. 

“Luke!” she shouted, and he stopped, making sure to put his weight on his uninjured leg, as he turned. She was running full speed through the hospital’s halls, and slowly came to a stop, looking fearfully up at Vader. 

Her...uncle? 

That was distinctly weird. 

But no weirder, he realized, than Vader being his father. Just slightly less horrifying. 

“Yeah,” he said. “What is it?”

Ruya frowned. “Where are you going?”

Luke’s heart twisted. It had only been three days, but in that amount of time, it seemed that Ruya had grown attached to him...and he’d grown just as attached to her. 

His cousin. 

She’d never understand it--and he was sure Vader would be furious if he said anything--so she couldn’t know. For now. 

“Uh...I’m leaving,” he said. Beside him, he felt Vader’s impatience, but he ignored it. “Sorry. But I have to go.” 

“Oh.” He’d expected her to look stricken, or burst into tears, but she just looked disappointed. “I wondered if that was gonna happen. I mean, I thought maybe not, but…” She looked down, kicking the wall idly. “Adults never do what you want them to do.” 

That was surprisingly relatable. Luke laughed. 

“That’s for sure,” he said. “But...hey. You know, I’m sure I’ll see you again.” 

Her face brightened. 

_“No,”_ Vader snarled, stepping forward, “you will--”

Luke shot him a desperate look, hoping that Vader was not done playing nice. 

“Perhaps,” he said stiffly. 

_Luke,_ **_we must leave._ **

The demand was harsh, and Luke knew something bad was going to happen if he kept pushing Vader’s patience...but he was going to miss Ruya. 

“I’ll see you again, kid,” he said softly, feeling a pang of sadness as he used the term Han had called him for years. “I promise.” 

“Promises are for suckers,” Ruya said, to his surprise. 

Luke blinked. “What?”

“You need to swear,” she said, scowling at him. “On the thing you never want to lose. Ever. You would kill someone before you lost it.” 

Wow. What kind of friends did _she_ have back home? 

“Like,” she went on, “for example, I’d swear on my stuffed shaak, Kami.” 

“Okay,” Luke said, still at a loss for what to say. “Does...Kami know you’re swearing on her?”

“That’s not how it works, dummy,” Ruya said. “But I’m sure she’d swear on me, too.” 

“Okay,” Luke said, deciding this was definitely the weirdest conversation he’d ever taken part in. 

“Hurry _up,”_ Vader hissed. 

“All right,” Luke said quickly, “I swear on, uh…” He didn’t have to think. It was just a matter of having the courage to say it in front of Vader. “I swear on...my friends. Han and Leia.” 

Vader’s fury _exploded_ across their bond; somehow, Luke kept from wincing. 

Ruya looked satisfied. A shy smile spread across her face. 

“Okay, Luke,” she said. “I trust you.” She held out her hand. “I’ll see you.” 

Smiling back, Luke shook her hand. 

“May we _depart?”_ Vader said icily, breaking the moment. 

With a sigh, trying to keep himself from dreading the days ahead, Luke turned around. “Yes. We’re leaving.” 

“Bye, Luke!” Ruya called to him. 

Luke turned halfway; his leg almost gave out, and he found himself momentarily gripping the edge of Vader’s cape to stay upright. Quickly, he let go. 

“Bye!” he shouted back. 

Then they turned the corner into the turbolift, and Luke was alone with his father. 

_Please,_ he begged the Force. _Tell me I made the right decision._

But, as usual, the Force was silent. 

He didn’t care what happened in the future, he didn’t care what Vader told him--he would resist becoming a Sith long enough for Leia to inevitably show up and rescue him, he knew that much--no matter what Vader did, he’d take it...just as long as he found out one thing. 

Whether or not his father truly cared about him. 

  
  


The hatchling was young, vulnerable; but from conception, she was bred to survive. But it was not complete. Something was wrong. 

She was alone. 

This young, she was not meant to be alone. 

But she could do nothing about it but survive. So she lived, hiding by daylight, hunting at night. There was nothing else; nothing but survival. She may have been a newborn, but she was already a killing machine. The first night, she had a brief fight with a small creature. She was wounded, but in the end, she won. That meant she was stronger. 

In the cutthroat world of dragons, only the strong survived. 

All the same, even the strongest of dragons needs a mother. And she did not have one; she only had herself. This caused a stunning transformation.

The first night, she was weak, alone. Frightened. 

By the third day, she was a toughened creature of muscle and bone. 

A monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs for this chapter: "Just Give Me A Reason" by P!nk and "To Be Human" by Sia for Vader--seriously, he made some good progress this chapter, not a lot, but PROGRESS guys--and "Way Down We Go" by Kaleo for Luke.


	30. Fifth Iteration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Vader meet up with some old friends; Aphra battles her conscience; Pandaki makes a discovery.

Not once in three days had Vader believed that this would actually happen. He had been determined to bring Luke back, he had known he would do it; but he had thought he might have to call down a battalion of Stormtroopers to escort his son, or to knock Luke unconscious with the Force, or something similarly complicated. If he accomplished it, he knew it would be difficult; he knew that Luke would not come easily. 

And yet, he had. After opening up the memories he had locked away, after baring his soul for a few minutes, he had asked...and Luke had said yes. Luke, his only son, his stubborn, obstinate Rebel son, was coming with him _willingly._

And now he must think of the future. It was not over yet; Vader had, unfortunately, lost almost three days. He would have to use the remaining three wisely. Luke would have to be briefed on the situation with Palpatine; that was the first order of business. Vader had wanted desperately to tell him what was truly going on, because that would have made Luke understand things better; but Vader’s plan currently involved turning Luke to the Dark Side in order to kill the Emperor, and the way Luke had been ever since Vader’s arrival on Felucia...he could not have risked it. If Luke reacted badly, Vader could have lost him for certain. 

But now they were returning. They would head down to the holding bay, select a ship; and then, once they had arrived on the _Executor,_ Luke would know everything. Vader would hold nothing back. 

It would certainly be easier than telling him about...her. 

But as they rode downward in the turbolift, as Vader glanced over at Luke--who was pointedly staring down--he realized that in order to convince his son to turn, he might have to tell him about his mother. That was, in fact, the only thing that had convinced Luke to come with him in the first place, and the only way he might turn…

No. No, he could not do that. Not when the memories, after just a few minutes, were _already_ returning, pushing through the walls he had carefully erected, spilling forward--

All the pain he’d caused, all the hurt, the misery--

He could not tell Luke, he _could not_ remind himself of that pain again. 

And yet...if it was the only way he could turn…

 _If he does not turn, he will be killed,_ something seemed to whisper in his mind. _And you know who will have to do it._

 _Shut up,_ he told the voice, but he knew it would not go away. 

Because it was right. 

He knew...he _knew_ what would have to happen if Luke was not turned. If his son did not fall, if Palpatine learned of it--

No. Vader stopped that line of thought. 

But the situation remained; Luke had to turn, or he would die. It came down to ripping open the wounds of the past...or keeping his only son from death. 

_He even had the power to save his loved ones...from dying._

He had lied. Palpatine had lied then, and had lied ever since; and for that, as well as for every other reason, he must die. 

And Luke would help Vader do it. 

Vader risked a glance at his son again, hoping that that piercing gaze was not turned on him; for some odd reason, it made him feel _guilty._ That was absurd; he was the boy’s father, he was the one who was right, and by the law of nature Luke must listen to him. And yet...whenever Luke was looking straight at him, not saying anything...he still had the strangest sensation that he was doing everything wrong. 

Fortunately, Luke still wasn’t looking at him; Vader could sense that he was nervous, and he did not know how he felt about that. He did not want his son to be afraid of him; and yet, fear would help him to turn. There would have to be some sort of compromise, and Vader did not yet know what that would be. 

“So,” Luke said, without looking up; he sounded absolutely defeated. “What happens to me now?”

Vader had wondered when he would ask. He had to be careful with his words; he knew that Luke still did not want to turn. But, if he were faced with the inevitability of it…

“We will take a ship from the holding bay to the _Executor,”_ Vader said. 

Surprisingly, that seemed to anger Luke, and he snapped his head up to glare at his father. “Yeah, I _know_ that. I mean, what happens when I _get_ to the _Executor?”_

“You...will be taken to your quarters.” 

“My quarters?” Luke’s eyes widened. “You’re...you’re not putting me in a cell?”

Vader was taken aback at the very idea. “Have I not told you that? You may be a Rebel...but you will not be one for much longer, and you also happen to be my son.” 

The turbolift pinged, and the door slid open. Vader walked forward. 

“I’d rather be a Rebel than _your_ son,” Luke muttered from behind him.

Vader spun on him; willing or not, _that_ particular attitude was not going to live to see the next dawn. 

“You _are_ my son,” he hissed, getting in Luke’s face; that and seizing him by the right arm seemed to be the two strategies that worked. “It has been three days, it is _ludicrous_ to continue denying it. But beyond _that,_ you should not wish to be a Rebel. They will not win, they clearly do not feed you enough, and if you were a Jedi they would not care about you at all!” 

“Like you _do?”_ Luke demanded. 

Not this again. Vader _hated_ this question in particular, because it pulled him in two separate directions. The problem was that he was a Sith, and he was not supposed to love; but on the other hand, Luke was his son. 

So, unfortunately, he could not think of a response. 

“Yeah,” Luke said bitterly, walking past him. “That’s what I thought.” 

Frustrated, Vader resumed his march, making sure Luke stayed ahead of him where he could keep an eye on him. What in the galaxy could he say? What was he _supposed_ to say? It was clear by now that Luke wanted a father who loved him; Jobal had been right. Luke was, of course, not used to the Sith way of living, and had quite possibly dreamed for years of an _ordinary_ father. Why, then, would he have been so shocked at hearing the truth on Bespin? He wanted an ordinary father who loved him, and Vader _was not that father._ He could not even _comprehend_ how to be that father; but as he was not, Luke would be less likely to turn. 

Why, why did everything have to be so _complicated?_

“Lord Vader!” 

Vader turned at the shout, relieved to have something else to distract himself with--and then, to his absolute surprise, Admiral Piett and General Veers came running around a corner, quickly slowing to a fast march when Vader turned to see them. But they were not alone. As they approached, he realized that they were accompanied by a _droid,_ by--by--

“Artoo!” Luke shouted, and started forward; but Vader, remembering his son’s many escape attempts--most of which had been successful--seized his arm and pulled him back. 

“Do _not_ move until I give you leave,” Vader told him sharply. 

“It’s my droid,” Luke shot back. “I’m not going to run away!” 

Did he have to object to _everything_ Vader told him to? He had very good reasons for wanting Luke to stay by his side: they were the Death Star, Cymoon, Vrogas Vas, Hoth, Bespin, and at least four separate occasions in the past three days. For a young man barely trained with the Force and who had only been a Rebel for three years, he was entirely too skilled at escaping Darth Vader. 

Fortunately, Vader was saved from an argument that surely would have undone all the progress he had made by the arrival of Piett, Veers, and...and a droid that looked _suspiciously similar_ to the one that had once been his.

“Lord--Lord Vader,” Piett gasped, and Vader wondered just how long they had been looking for him. They certainly must have come in contact with the dragons; both men were a mess, and he was fairly sure that Piett was bleeding somewhere. Curiously, the droid looked untouched. “We’ve been looking for you.” 

“That is interesting,” Vader said, “given that you _all_ received orders not to interfere with my mission on this planet.” 

Firmus Piett and Maximilian Veers were two of his most trusted officers. Veers had helped him to lead the Empire to many a decisive victory, and Piett...he was proving to be the most competent Admiral that Vader had ever had in his service. Never had there been a man who took his orders so seriously, who never stepped out of line, who accomplished everything that was asked of him and more. 

But all the same...if _they_ became the reason that his son slipped out of his fingers…

“We--we know,” Piett said, and Vader could sense that he was ashamed of himself. “We understand. But as soon as Captain Venka took off after you, we knew that we had to discover what he was up to.” 

They had found out about the dragons...and all on their own. 

“What did you find?” Vader asked, continuing to monitor Luke. He could multitask. 

“We found an entire report,” Veers said. “The final findings were never brought to you; Venka purposefully kept them away.” 

Luke was beginning to look rather sullen, as if he were realizing that he could be doing much better things at the moment. Vader almost reprimanded him through the Force, but…

If he continued to _play nice,_ he might be rewarded. 

_Very well,_ he thought to Luke. _You may greet your droid. But only if you do not attempt to escape._

 _I won’t,_ Luke thought back, and Vader sensed both his honesty and his eagerness. He had once been like that; he had once had a very close relationship with his droid. But such things were not useful for a Sith. 

With a smile, Luke left his side and fairly ran toward the droid. 

The smile had not been aimed at him, but Vader decided to count it all the same. 

“I do not doubt that Venka did not bring the findings to me,” Vader rumbled. Venka might be dead, but that did not mean Vader was still not angry; far from it. That fool of a captain had caused several dangerous dragons to break out; he was the reason that they were only _now_ leaving the planet. “He was more of a fool than even I anticipated.” 

Piett and Veers stared at him. _“Was?”_

“He is dead,” Vader said dismissively. “It is no matter.” 

But the look on the two men’s faces told him that it did matter, at least to them. Clearly, they had no idea what had happened over the last few days, but Vader was not going to take the time to inform them. They _needed_ to get off the planet. 

“Artoo!” he heard in the distance. At least Luke was temporarily distracted. 

“Ah...very well,” Piett said. “Killed by…”

“A dragon,” Vader told him. “It reached him before I did.”

“Ah,” Piett said lightly. “Then...you know about the dragons?”

“I _know_ about the dragons. I suspect that I know most of what you came to tell me, and unless there is something I do not know, then Skywalker and I must be leaving.” 

“That’s…” Veers seemed to realize for the first time that he was in the presence of an infamous Rebel, and he spun around to see the very odd picture of Luke Skywalker, destroyer of the Death Star, smiling softly and talking to an Artoo unit as if they were old friends. “That’s _Skywalker’s_ droid?”

Yet another delay. Vader clenched his fists. 

“Just forget it, let it go,” Piett hissed to Veers. 

“Well,” Veers said, very obviously trying not to think about the droid, “we, ah...we turned the power back on.” 

Now, _that_ was news, and very impressive for two Imperials who had never been inside the facility before. Vader did not bestow praise frequently, if at all, but that...that was impressive. 

“Good work,” he told them, as if turning the power back on in a facility harboring illegal creatures was a standard procedure. “I must leave Felucia immediately, and it is only because of this that I am able to do so at all.” 

Both Piett and Veers stood up a little straighter. 

“We were only doing our job,” Veers said, though Vader could sense his pride. 

“There are two ships in the holding bay,” Piett added--that had been out of the way. Vader was again reminded why Firmus Piett was the best Admiral he had ever known. “One of them is slightly larger; I will leave that for you.” 

“Very good. We will depart at once. Skywalker,” he said, shifting to address Luke, “we are leaving.” 

Luke stood up, and immediately the droid began to follow him. 

That did it. If that droid stayed, Luke would have something to increase his good moods; and that, quite simply, would not do for turning him. 

“The droid does not come with us,” he said sharply. 

“Yes, he does,” Luke said, and the anger that Vader sent across their bond did nothing to hinder him. “If he doesn’t come with us, then…” He gave a mock sigh. “Then I guess I’m not coming, either.” 

Of all the--Vader was very aware of Piett and Veers there; if they had not been with him, he would have given Luke a threat he would _never_ have forgotten. But they were there, and Luke was looking at him imploringly, and the droid…

Droids did not have the possibility for expression. But he was sure that that droid was giving him a look that said, _Well?_

“All right,” he ground out, and the droid beeped happily. 

Yes, he was beginning to think that this was most definitely R2-D2. In which case...what had he done? 

  
  
  


Where was Pandaki? 

Where _was_ he?

Luke was going with Darth Vader; that was obvious, and now Aphra had to take her opportunity to get off the planet as soon as she could. It was a regret that Luke couldn’t come with them; she felt bad for the kid, and she knew that as soon as he left Felucia she’d never see him again. But she couldn’t worry about him any longer; now _she_ had to escape. Get to Corellia...find a place to retire, on a pile of credits...it was the dream. 

And _Pandaki_ was supposed to have picked her up. 

After waiting for several minutes, Aphra had given up; she’d have to go find him and his ship on her own. 

“Can’t rely on anyone these days, can you?” she muttered as she ran back down the stairs and out of the hospital. “You have to do everything yourself--”

As she came around the front, she stopped. 

The ship was there--this was where he was supposed to pick them up, she remembered, at the front instead of the back. That was her fault. Except…

Except that Pandaki wasn’t in the ship. 

There was shattered transparisteel on the ground. Looking up, Aphra could see that one of the windows had been destroyed--

By Luke. By the dragons. That’s right; he’d thrown the dragons through the window. Remembering, Aphra rubbed her arm, the one that had been scratched...and then she looked at the ship. 

It was _right_ in front of where the dragons had landed. 

And there were dragon tracks along the ground…

“No,” she whispered, running toward the ship. “No, no, no--”

Pandaki couldn’t be dead, he just couldn’t. She’d hated him initially; then, finally, she’d started to like him. 

_This. This is why I don’t talk to people, this is why I don’t make friends with anyone. The sooner you like someone, the sooner they die. That’s how it works. I knew I should’ve just kept hating his guts, I knew it._

Aphra was almost afraid to look; almost afraid to open the ship. But as she came closer, she realized that the ship was completely untouched. 

How could they have killed him? 

Well. They could open doors. She wouldn’t put it past them. 

Carefully, one hand on her blaster, Aphra opened the door. There was nothing--Pandaki was gone--but that didn’t mean anything. 

Quickly, she whipped out her blaster and fired it three times. 

“Come on!” she shouted. “I know you’re in here, you little bastards!”

But there was still nothing. 

They weren’t in the ship. Probably. Aphra still wasn’t taking any chances, but either they’d dragged him out ages ago, or else they’d never gone in the ship at all. 

She was beginning to think it was the latter. There was no sign of a struggle.

A dead end. 

With a heavy sigh, Aphra turned to go; and then she saw the note sitting on the controls. 

Curious, she picked it up. 

_Aphra,_ it read, _and Skywalker, if he’s with you...you’re not going to like this._ _Two of the dragons fell out of one of the windows; they did not come after me. I debated sitting here, but I have done enough damage to both of you. I need to make up for it._

No. No, no, no, he hadn’t. 

_They were headed into the jungle. I have gone after them._

He had. 

Shit. 

_I intend to find out where they are going; they must have a purpose. There is no other conceivable reason why they would avoid me completely. During testing, every time they were given a choice between a live being and an independent distraction, they chose the person. Don’t worry, because I am sure you will; no one died in those tests._

That was fair. She had started to wonder. 

_Such behavior is completely out of character for them. I need to find out where they are going. As their creator, I regret to say this, but if they have a special meeting place, a den of their own, I will be able to bring the information back to you so that we can kill them._

Kill them. Kill his own creations, born out of years of hard work. 

He really _was_ sorry. 

_Take off; leave the planet. Hopefully I will see you again, but probably not. You have both been good to me, far better than I deserved, and my last comfort will be that I am making it up to you._

_Your friend,_

_Pandaki_

He...he’d gone after the dragons…Aphra let the note fall. 

Idiot...selfless idiot. She could leave. She could leave right now, get in the ship...take off…

And then, Pandaki would probably die. 

“Oh, are you kidding me,” she muttered. Damn her conscience, damn everything that had happened since she’d been here--

_Corellia...pile of credits…_

But it wouldn’t be worth anything if she was feeling guilty the entire time. 

She hated her conscience. She hated it. But, for some completely stupid reason…

She had to help Pandaki. 

Furious, she slammed the door of the ship. 

“Shit!” she screamed. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit!”_

Then, absolutely livid, she stormed off towards the jungle. 

  
  


Canyon krayts were extremely difficult to follow. They were natural hunters, intelligent, and skilled at hiding themselves; anyone but Pandaki would have lost them. But Pandaki had been there for every testing session, he had made sure they were engineered correctly, and so he did not lose them. That being said, he came close a few times. Once he wondered if they had disappeared entirely; again he wondered if _they_ were following _him._ Then, bending down, he had caught a glimpse of one claw, and resumed the hunt. 

The creator of the dragons followed them in this way, nervously, almost losing them at one time or another, as the sun began slowly to set, and the day became cooler. As the light through the trees began to vanish, Pandaki grew anxious; once it was dusk completely, he would stand no chance at following the dragons…

And, worse, it would be their hunting time. 

Once Pandaki thought he saw the spitting krayt; that one also had escaped, as he’d noticed by the sticky residue he’d spotted on one of the trees as he, Aphra, and Sola traveled through the jungle. But no--it was just a trick of his mind. The spitting krayt would not be anywhere near the Canyon krayts; she had learned, through testing, that the Canyons were the superior dragons in terms of speed and intelligence. She would not be near them. 

Still, Pandaki kept an eye out. 

The hunt continued, over some of the terrain he’d traveled before, as the day wore on...and it showed no signs of stopping. Pandaki began to wonder if he had made a good decision after all. Though it was evening, the temperature was still hot and humid, he only had one arm to work with, and he was growing very, very exhausted. And it had occurred to him, even from the start, that the dragons might be purposefully leading him into a trap. They would do that. 

And yet...they were still walking forward, prowling, as if they were trying to find something else. They were distracted; Pandaki could tell it. 

Then, suddenly, the dragons stopped. 

Pandaki stopped with them, hanging back at least twenty meters and trying not to breathe too loudly. Had they noticed him? It was possible. But no...they were sniffing something. Something directly in front of them. 

Then they disappeared into the earth. 

Pandaki almost shouted, but held himself back. He had been right; there _was_ something going on here. And now he had a choice. He could go back, tell the Naberries and anyone else he could find…

Or he could follow them. 

He was terrified already; it was nearly dark, and his limbs were beginning to tremble after such a daunting hunt…

But then, inexplicably, he found himself moving forward. 

He had a blaster, he reminded himself, he had a blaster. It wouldn’t do much, but it was something. 

The dragons had disappeared into some hole, some place in the ground, something that they had missed before...or had never seen. Pandaki didn’t think he’d been here before. And, as he came up over a hill...he realized that he had been right again. It was almost unnoticeable, but if a person looked for it--and Pandaki was--he could see where the ground gave, and some sort of cave opened up. 

_What are you doing? They’re going to kill you!_

If they did, he would deserve it. 

Pandaki slipped into the cave.

  
  


Well. Things were not as bad as they could have been. Luke was going with Darth Vader, willingly, which was absolutely terrifying; but now he had Artoo with him. 

But beyond that, the fact that Artoo was there meant...that he _did_ have some sway over Vader. 

“It’s a surprise to see you,” Luke said as they walked along. He wished that Vader and the two Imperials were not there, but he would have to deal with them listening to him for now. “I thought you’d have left the planet.” 

_I did not leave the planet,_ Artoo beeped at him, sounding insulted. _You think I’d leave you alone with him?_

“Careful,” Luke said; he didn’t know if Vader understood Binary, but it was likely. “And...well, all right. Sorry about that. Things have just been a little crazy. I also wondered if you’d run into the dragons.” 

_I did run into them. With electricity._

“You...what?” Luke echoed. 

_I defeated a dragon by surprising it. For such an intelligent creature, it is ridiculously weak to electricity._

“I...uh…”

Luke was reluctant to talk to any of the Imperials; after Hoth, he most certainly did not want to talk to Veers. But the other one might be a better bet. Above all, he wanted to know if his droid had really beaten a _krayt dragon_ when not even Vader had been able to do that. 

“Uh, excuse me,” he said to the Admiral. “I’m sorry, but I have a question.”

Slowly, the Admiral turned to look at him, disdain in his eyes. 

“Yes?” he said, rather stiffly. 

“This droid of mine…” Luke gave a nervous laugh. “He said he...knocked a dragon unconscious? Is that right?”

“Oh,” said the Admiral, and he looked actually embarrassed. “Er...yes. He did do that.” The corners of his mouth quirked upwards. “I was as surprised as you are.” 

“I shouldn’t be,” Luke said, with a glance at Artoo. “He’s done worse.” Then, he supposed, he could have left the conversation at that; but he was starting to realize that he didn’t know the Admiral’s name, and that...made him uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. What’s your name?”

“Er…” The Admiral looked confused, as if he hadn’t quite expected Luke to ask him that. “Piett. Admiral Piett.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Your first name is ‘Admiral?’” 

“No, it’s…” Piett sighed. “Firmus Piett.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Luke said. “I’m Luke Skywalker.”

“I’m aware.” Finally, Piett gave him a full smile. “You are not exactly what I was expecting you to be, Luke Skywalker.”

Luke frowned. “Uh...what were you expecting?”

“More…” Piett hesitated, and Luke could tell that he was searching for a word that wouldn’t be offensive. “Arrogant.” 

“Arrogant?” Luke echoed. “Is...is that what you all think of me?”

“You destroyed the Death Star,” Piett said simply, “and you’ve evaded us all many times. We actually tend to think that you’re all rather arrogant, but--”

“Would it surprise you if I said that we might think the same of you?”

Piett froze mid-sentence, as if he hadn’t expected that; but then, he shook his head. 

“No,” he said. “Now that I think about it...it wouldn’t surprise me.” 

_He is arrogant,_ Artoo said. 

Luke laughed. “I think you suit that word better than either of us.” 

“As we are nearly there,” Vader said, and the temperature seemed to drop several notches, “would either of you mind _ceasing_ the conversation?”

Did he have to control _everything?_ What was so wrong with some harmless conversation? 

Luke opened his mouth to retort, but Artoo beat him to it. 

_You do not seem prone to conversation yourself,_ he beeped, rather sassily. _So if you are not going to take part in it, why would you ask that no one else do it? Unless, that is, you expect the entire universe to bend to your will, which I’m suspecting that you do._

Dead silence. 

Terror shot through Luke, and he turned quickly to Artoo; Vader couldn’t kill him, but he could just as easily get him turned into a pile of scrap metal, or else simply fling him into the wall with the Force until he shut down permanently. 

“Artoo,” Luke whispered, “I’m in a bad enough position already, stop it!”

Vader stopped. The others stopped with him. 

Then, slowly, he turned around, marched towards Artoo, and stopped to loom over him. Artoo, for his part, did not seem at all terrified. 

“Droid,” Vader hissed, “your situation at the moment is precarious enough. I would suggest that you remain as quiet as you can, if you wish to remain with Skywalker.” 

Artoo tipped himself back, slightly, to look up at the Dark Lord of the Sith.

 _I was correct,_ he said at last. 

Luke felt Vader’s fury _spike_ in the Force, and he stepped closer to his droid, ready for anything...but then, with a snarl, Vader turned back. 

“Why,” he muttered to Artoo, “why would he do that?”

 _When we are alone,_ Artoo said, _I will tell you a secret._

Luke grinned. Maybe going with Vader wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

  
  


It was his droid. 

It was _his blasted droid._

Vader had suspected it. He had suspected, with the demeanor; and then, the droid had spoken, had insulted him so completely, and with so little fear, that he had known. 

It was R2-D2. 

His first thought had been to destroy that droid immediately. This was the third memory he had been confronted with today; and unfortunately for Artoo, he was not Vader’s wife or his son. He was expendable. 

But then Vader had realized how distraught Luke would be if Artoo was destroyed. 

And beyond that, he...had missed that sarcasm. 

But that was not enough to keep the droid from being separated from Luke.

He would not destroy Artoo. He would not do that. But, once he had Luke on the _Executor,_ and there was no possible way that his son could escape...Artoo would be shipped off to another planet, far away from the reach of the Empire. 

That would be Luke’s first lesson in learning the danger of sentiment. 

At last, they had arrived in the holding bay; it only took Piett a moment to locate both ships. He had been right; the one he’d designated for Vader was slightly larger, with more security. 

In case Luke decided to escape at the last minute, he would have...difficulty.

“Excellent,” he told Piett. “Send a message to Control; get the _Executor_ prepared for our arrival.” 

“Very good, Lord Vader,” Piett said, and then he and Veers were gone. 

As they went, Veers shot a glare at Luke; that would be dealt with in the future. 

Luke and General Veers would be spending much time together. 

“Luke,” he said, once they were alone, albeit with Artoo. “Are you still going to come willing?”

A tremor ran through Luke, but he nodded, slowly. 

“Yes,” he said. 

Something swelled in Vader’s heart, something that had been long dormant...and suddenly he made a decision. 

He would not get rid of Artoo. 

To become a Sith, Luke did not need to be denied everything. 

He would be powerful, and less sentimental, and more willing to kill...but he would also be given what he desired. Vader did not know where the thought had come from; but now that it was there, he could not ignore it. 

Luke, after all, should have been born a prince of the Empire. 

Vader stepped back, allowing Luke to enter the ship first, then the droid; and then he walked inside. The hatch shut behind them. 

At last. At long last, Luke was with him...and they were leaving. 

_This_ was now the happiest moment of his life. 

  
  


It was completely dark. 

Well, almost completely; thanks to the setting sun, there was a little light. But Pandaki could not see any farther than a few feet; and that was bad. 

The dragons would know he had entered...and they would be angry. 

He could only stay a minute. If that. He knew his creations, and they were very, very terrifying. 

It was the most daring thing Pandaki had ever done: a slow walk through the dark, knowing that he might meet death any second at the teeth of the creatures he had brought back to life. He knew how they hunted. If he saw one of them, she would not attack him; the attack would come from behind, or the side. So far, he had not seen anything...but the light was fading. 

And he had not been attacked. 

How deep _was_ this cave?

Almost against his will, Pandaki continued to walk, through the dark, expecting at any moment to hear a sound, to feel the crushing of his bones, to feel at once intense pain. He experienced none of that. Instead, there was only silence. 

And that was more terrifying than anything. 

After two minutes, he had still not heard a sound or seen a single dragon; he had to go back. He would warn the others, and they’d come back and...and get rid of the dragons. He wouldn’t be able to do it, so he’d get them to do it for him. 

Pandaki stopped, turned around, and took a step forward. 

And something _crunched_ under his foot. 

He froze. He listened--but nothing growled, nothing moved in the dark. He looked down. 

Then, slowly, he lifted his foot. 

He could just barely see, could barely notice what it was, but it looked to him like...like…

Like an egg. 

A dragon egg. 

Mortified, Pandaki bent down to touch the egg. It was like no egg he had ever seen. It was not a Greater egg, not Canyon, not Spitting. It was not even like those eggs that Aphra had seen earlier. 

It looked like a mix of something...and something else. 

A mix of Canyon, he noticed that--

And something else that he had only seen once. An egg that he had created, and had then decided never to create again. 

A mix of the Canyon egg...and the _Alpha’s._

Against all odds, somehow, inexplicably, the Canyon krayts had mated with the Alpha...not all the Canyons were female…

They had mated, the Canyon krayts and the Alpha were working together, they had mated, they had created even _more mutants--_

Horrified, Pandaki jumped to his feet. And that was when he noticed it. 

The egg he’d crushed was not the only one in the cave. 

As he stood there in the waning light, in the dark of the dragons' den, he was surrounded by dozens upon dozens of those very same eggs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh.


	31. Three Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Vader make their escape; Pandaki continues to discover terrible things.

The planet Felucia was known for its uncomfortably hot temperatures; not in the same way as Tatooine or Jakku, but still hot, and unbelievably humid. Part of the reason for this was that the sun took a long time to set--from noon until 2200, it beat down on the inhabitants of the jungle planet before finally setting. 

When the two borrowed ships--one carrying Piett and Veers, the other carrying Luke, Vader, and Artoo--left Felucia, the sun had completely set. Darth Vader waited, allowing the other ship to travel upward for about two minutes before piloting their own ship, moving it out of the holding bay and into the open air...into the night. 

The sun had set; and, knowing how Felucia worked...that meant it was near midnight. He knew what that meant. 

He had three days to turn Luke to the Dark Side. 

For the past three days, Vader had been counting the days, almost against his will; he did not want to know how much time he had, did not want to be aware of how precarious his situation--and Luke’s situation--was. But he had not been able to help himself; and with each day, he had grown more and more agitated. Between Luke’s standoffish attitude, the dragons, and the Naberries, he had stood almost no chance of succeeding. 

But now…

Now, Luke was with him... _willingly._ The last bit was a miracle, but it was true. He had his son...and he still had three days. 

Perhaps the Force was with him after all. 

  
  


Sola did not think it was possible; she almost couldn’t believe it. Three days ago, her mother had had to be hospitalized due to heart complications. Of course, Jobal Naberrie had been older, and had grown weaker over the years, but she had been hospitalized for the same reasons before. Sola had had no reason to suspect that anything would come of getting her aging mother taken care of in a foreign hospital. 

Now, three days later, she was dead. 

Logically, it was obvious why she was dead. Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker, and resurrected krayt dragons had shown up the same day. She should not be surprised. But she was. First Padme...now her mother…

And beyond that, there was the confirmation that Darth Vader was Anakin Skywalker. That he had killed her sister. 

For a quarter of an hour, Sola, Amil, and Ruya sat in the family room together while Vader and Luke spoke in Jobal’s room. The family did not say much; they simply were content to sit there. There was not much to say, after all. Sola had suspected that her mother did not have too much left to live; but in her mind it had been _years,_ not days. And she had thought Jobal would die of heart complications, not... _dragon_ complications. 

After a while, Ruya sat up. 

“Can I go, Mama?” she whispered. “I need to use the bathroom.”

“Yes,” Sola said, smiling through her tears. “Be careful about your back.” 

Ruya nodded and walked off, not saying a word. She was a tough little girl, but even she wasn’t impervious to grief; she had hardly said anything since her grandmother had died.

After Ruya had gone, Sola laid her head on Amil’s shoulder, closed her eyes, and relaxed. 

“I’ve sent a holo to the girls,” he said, meaning their other two daughters, Pooja and Ryoo. “Ryoo will be ready to greet us when we return to Naboo; Pooja will try to be there as soon as she can.”

Sola nodded. Pooja had been on a relief mission to the slowly growing community of Jedha survivors; she had not expected her to be back soon. 

Amil sighed. “She was a wonderful woman. She’ll be...well, more than missed. Even after the rise of the Empire, she was revered in Naboo; she was quite the matriarch. She’ll be mourned. Everyone loved her.” 

At last, Sola found the words to speak. 

“Because she was like Padme,” she said, sitting up. 

Amil turned to look at her. “You’re like Padme.”

But Sola shook her head. 

“No,” she said. “No, I’m not.”

“Don’t put yourself down like that,” Amil said, concern in his eyes. “Padme was wonderful, and _you_ are wonderful. Don’t--”

“I’m not _putting myself down,”_ Sola said firmly, “I’m just saying what _is._ My mother was a staunch believer in democracy. She was strong-willed; once she’d made up her mind, no one could stop her. She was determined, a force of nature...and beyond that she was kind. She believed in the goodness in people, she believed that people could change, that they would always change; she believed, in other words, that people are good. Padme was exactly like that. Exactly. She inherited all of those traits, and I…” Sola sighed. “I’m nothing like that, Amil. I’ve tried, I really have...but I don’t see what’s so good about people.”

“There’s…” Amil chuckled. “There’s nothing wrong with that. People can do some...pretty awful things.” 

“You’re right. They can. But...we don’t want that, do we?” Sola shook her head. “And yet, the second we believe something good it comes back to bite us in the ass. It’s cynical, to be true, and Padme used to tell me that; she wanted me to believe in others. I didn’t see it...and now she’s dead. And now Mother is dead. Are you seeing a pattern here?”

Understanding dawned in Amil’s eyes. “Humanists die. Anyone who believes there’s good in people dies.”

Sola nodded. “Or they get their souls destroyed, until they’re just as cynical as the rest of us. The Rebel senator Bail Organa was like that. Jobal and Padme were both like that. And…Luke is like that.”

“Luke?” Amil frowned. “You mean...the young man who is apparently our nephew.” He sighed. “I think you’re reading too far into this. We can’t help what’s going on with him; we can’t stop it. He and...and...Darth Vader have their own issues, and we can’t interfere.” 

“But...he’s our family,” Sola said. “He’s _Padme’s_ family, he’s the only reason the Rebellion isn’t dead, and...and if Vader brings him back to the Empire…” She shook her head. _“Everything_ dies. Do you understand?”

“I...do,” Amil said slowly. “I see where you’re coming from; and trust me, I’m concerned as well. I don’t want that kid going with Vader! But, look at it this way. Our nephew is still in the hospital. He’s alone with Vader for now, of course, but he’s right down the hall...and you said it yourself. The Sith Lord can’t kill you. I’m sure you can work out a compromise.” 

Sola smiled, at last, for the first time since Jobal had died. “Yes. You’re right, of course.” 

Amil returned the smile. “Don’t worry, it’ll all be fine. I mean...it’s not like Luke’s left the hospital, or anything.” 

Right on cue, Ruya came traipsing into the room; and, to Sola’s shock, her face was wet with tears. 

“Ruya!” Sola got to her feet. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s...it’s Luke.” Ruya sniffled. “He’s _leaving.”_

Sola shot Amil a look. Not now, not right after…

“Not with Darth Vader,” she said, but Ruya nodded. 

Fear shot through her--and anger. She could not let Luke go with him, not now, not after her mother’s death. She wouldn’t lose Padme’s son to evil. 

Fortunately, Amil seemed to be of the same mind; he grabbed her arm. 

“Come on,” he said, hefting Ruya into his arms. “Let’s go.” 

  
  
  


R2-D2 had triumphed. 

For the past three days, he had been worried. Artoo was not worried often, when it came to his own functionality; but Master Luke was constantly getting himself into trouble, and the droid had learned to watch out for him, and he had been particularly watching out for him over the past month. Master Luke had gone to the planet Bespin, and had returned alive--minus a hand, although that was only as bad as temporarily losing one function, and he had many others--but Artoo could tell that that was not all that had happened. For a month, Luke had been increasingly jumpy, and seemed very on edge, as if he were expecting an attack, and it had not taken long for Artoo to become worried. 

At least, in the last week, it was not as bad as it had been initially. The first few days after the return from Bespin were especially terrible; Master Luke barely slept, spent constant hours muttering to himself, didn’t eat...and when he did eat, he was throwing up sick, and when he did sleep, he was waking up screaming. Artoo could not understand what was happening, but he knew that something was wrong with his master’s functions. Something was not quite right, either in his head or his body, or both; and what had frustrated him the most was that there was nothing he could do to fix it. He had tried bumping into objects and knocking them over many times, which usually made Master Luke laugh...but this time it only made him jump, and finally he snapped at Artoo. That had never happened. And while those early terrors had lessened slightly, Luke had never quite changed; he was still not as functional as he had been before. Many times, given his long existence in the galaxy, he wondered what the cause of it could be--and eventually he had settled on Darth Vader. 

And then he knew. Darth Vader was not Darth Vader. He was Master Anakin.

Artoo had not remembered until now. He had known that Anakin Skywalker died on Mustafar; but suddenly, when he saw Vader with his Master Luke, he recalled how on the way to the planet Mustafar, Master Anakin had been speaking with someone, and the person had called him Lord Vader. Then he knew it was true; Darth Vader was Master Anakin, which also made him Master Luke’s father, which also explained Luke’s recent demeanor. C-3PO would have said that the chances of Darth Vader being Master Anakin were three thousand to one; but Artoo had never cared for C-3PO’s statistics. Frankly, he was of the opinion that they were rather faulty, and also tended to make the protocol droid very arrogant. So he did not care. All he knew was that Darth Vader was Master Anakin, and had caused some kind of severe harm to Master Luke. 

And now Artoo was here with More Selfish Master Anakin(as he had in the last twenty-four minutes been thinking of him), and he could get his revenge for what he had done to Master Luke. It had already begun. In the last twenty-four and a half minutes, he could tell that More Selfish Master Anakin was very irritated and overwhelmed by him, for his persistence; but for Luke’s sake he would tolerate him. 

Already, Artoo was winning. 

So, suffice to say, he was feeling very triumphant. 

When they arrived on the ship, More Selfish Master Anakin made them wait(he had a very strange voice now, and it made him sound too much like a droid). Allegedly, the reason was that the other two Imperial officers, who were also extremely arrogant, had to get close to the _Executor._ Artoo believed that well enough; but he did not have to sound so commanding about it. 

However, he remained silent for the time being. The likelihood was high that Master Luke did not know that Artoo had once served with Anakin. He would have to say it carefully, since More Selfish Master Anakin now seemed far more prone to anger. 

Finally, they were ready to take off; and immediately, Anakin ordered Luke to sit down. Of course, despite being injured--and that was concerning--Artoo knew that Luke would not sit down. The matter escalated into an argument--if Artoo had not realized the truth by now, that would have done it--and finally, Anakin forcibly made Luke sit down. 

That was the first good thing he had done in twenty-two years. 

Then, muttering impatiently, More Selfish Master Anakin went into the cockpit, and Artoo followed him. 

_Stay there, droid,_ Anakin told him, his voice still so much more of a snarl than it had ever been. _That is an order._

But his old master would not terminate him; that was clear by now. Artoo saw that he would lose nothing by pressing the matter and continuing to exact his revenge, so he followed Anakin all the same. 

“You are more impatient than you used to be,” he told his old master plainly. “It will not get you what you want.” 

_I am not_ impatient, _droid,_ More Selfish And Also More Impatient Master Anakin snapped in response. _I simply do not waste the time that I used to. The Dark Side has taught me the value of effectiveness...though,_ he added with some disdain, _I do not expect you to understand that._

Here. This was his shot. 

“I do not understand it,” Artoo said. “All I understand is that lately Master Luke is very distraught, that he has not been himself, and that he is suffering much emotional distress...and that, furthermore, the cause of all of it is you.” 

He raised his domed head to look up at Master Anakin, certifying his point.

With a wave of his hand, Master Anakin sent Artoo flying backward out of the cockpit. 

_Hey!_ Luke shouted. _What did you do that for?_

 _The droid is not necessary for my purposes, young one,_ More Selfish Master Anakin shot back, before fully disappearing into the cockpit to pilot the ship. 

The fall had not hurt at all, and Artoo was quickly upright again. He did not want Master Luke to stand up and make his injuries worse. Once he was up, Luke looked more relieved. 

_You all right?_ he asked. As always, Master Luke was most considerate of what Artoo was feeling. 

“I am not hurt at all,” Artoo said, then decided that since More Selfish Master Anakin was in the cockpit, things were safe. “But you should worry about yourself instead; you are very wounded. Do not move. Making you sit down is the first wise thing that Master Anakin has done.” 

Master Luke’s eyes widened. He felt surprise, of course. That was natural. 

_You...you_ knew? _But why did you--_ Master Luke looked away, and Artoo realized that he would be wondering why he had not told him. _Why did you never tell me?_

He had said those words in his sleep, Artoo recalled. Many people must not have told Luke this; that had been wrong of them. And if Artoo had remembered before today, he would have told him.

“I have a large memory bank,” he explained patiently. “I only need to access important files, since my memory has never been wiped. A certain memory of Master Anakin was not important for a long time.” 

Luke nodded slowly, and Artoo saw that he was calming down. 

_All right,_ he said. _Okay. Sorry for that._

“Do not apologize. It is Master Anakin’s fault.” 

_Yeah._ Master Luke made a sound which Artoo had recently determined was the way that humanoid beings snorted. _Not just his, though._ He frowned. _Wait. How do you know him? You called him Master…_ He gasped. _You served with him in the Clone Wars!_

“I did,” Artoo told him, happily. He had always longed for Luke to know this, but Master Obi-Wan had told him that Luke must not know that until the time was right. 

But Master Obi-Wan had been dead for a while now, he remembered. That meant that R2-D2 could do whatever he wanted. 

Master Luke smiled at him. _That’s why he kept you around._

“Yes. Although I believe that if you tell him that, he will instantly become angry and have me thrown out into space.” 

Master Luke, for once, actually laughed, and Artoo felt proud. Laughter was a sign of happiness, of amusement; he had made Master Luke happy for the first time in an entire month. 

Then, a moment later, Luke yawned. 

“You must sleep,” Artoo told him. “You are exhausted, and wounded, and if you do not go to sleep I will shock you until you fall unconscious.”

Master Luke raised an eyebrow. _Three days by yourself has made you too arrogant for your own good, Artoo._

“No. Threepio made me too arrogant. It is second nature.”

Master Luke laughed again, one of those smaller laughs that was called a giggle; this was a successful day. _All right, Artoo, all right. I’ll sleep._

“You’d better,” Artoo said, and then Master Luke smiled once more and closed his eyes. Artoo did not know if he was actually asleep, but the likelihood was high. He did look exhausted. 

Without his master to keep him company, Artoo wheeled toward the viewport and looked out at the planet they were currently leaving. Finally, they would be out of this hellhole. He had spent three days on it, and they had not been pleasant. He had never felt such a hatred for local wildlife as he did now; but the wildlife he had run into was either not useful, or had tried to eat him. Once, a very large creature--it was, according to his files, a creature that should be extinct--had tried to spit on him. The absurdity! That, he had thought, was extremely rude, so he had electrocuted it. Then he tried the same trick on the smaller creature, which one of the Imperial officers had said was a dragon, and it had worked again. But altogether, Artoo had not enjoyed his time on Felucia, and he was very happy to have found Master Luke. He did not like that he was also going with More Selfish Master Anakin, especially because Anakin was now with the Empire; but if he was with Master Luke, it would be worth it. 

As the ship continued to rise into the air, piloted very smoothly--the final proof that what looked like a nasty-tempered droid in black armor was actually Master Anakin, but more selfish and more impatient--Artoo happened to notice something down below them, in the trees. Curious, he looked; according to his scanners, it was a creature at the edge of the jungle. It was watching him. 

Artoo wondered if he recognized it. He looked closer--and then, he realized, it matched a creature from his memory file. 

The thing looking at him was similar to the dragon he’d knocked unconscious. 

That was suspicious. Artoo could not connect that to anything, but it seemed strange that the dragon would be looking directly at them. It should not be that intelligent; but it was looking at the ship as if it knew who they were. 

Artoo did not know what that meant. But it could not be good. 

Quickly, he turned back to Master Luke...but he was still sleeping. In fact, he was even making that sound that humans made when they were deeply tired--he was snoring. Artoo should not wake him. And More Selfish Master Anakin was not an option, either; he was piloting the ship, and after what he had done to Luke Artoo would not deign to ask him for anything. 

But then what was to be done about the dragon?

With a last glance at Master Luke, Artoo returned to the viewpoint. The dragon continued to stare up at the ship as they left Felucia--Artoo stared back. 

Then, eventually, the dragon turned and vanished into the jungle. 

  
  
  


Quickly and quietly, Doctor Pandaki moved back from the eggs, careful not to step on any. The dragons had not come running yet; but if he destroyed any more, they might. He needed to get out of here while he still could--get out, and send a message to Aphra, or to Skywalker, or...or anyone else. They needed to know, they needed to know that the Canyon krayts were working with the Alpha. Pandaki had to admit to being surprised; he had wondered, the past few days, what would happen when the different breeds of dragon encountered one another. The Greater and Canyon krayts he knew would try to kill one another--they had done so in testing. Those two had not roamed the galaxy together for long, so he had been curious as to how they would behave; and immediately, they had gone for the kill. But the Canyon krayts and the Alpha...he had had no idea what they would do. He had assumed that they would attack one another as well; but in the back of his mind had been the thought that since the Alpha’s genes were composed partly of Canyon krayt DNA...would they actually decide they could be allies instead?

Now, it seemed that that had happened, perhaps in more ways than one. They had mated certainly, but...was something else going on, too?

And where _was_ the Alpha?

Pandaki moved faster, stepping carefully over and around the eggs, eyes searching the darkness anxiously, expecting that at any moment he might be attacked; but he was not. The Canyon krayts seemed fully occupied by...something. 

Again the thought came. Where was the Alpha?

At last Pandaki had reached the exit. He had to be careful, as he only had one arm to use, but after a few seconds he was able to haul himself out of the den and onto solid ground. 

Immediately, he knew that things were about to go south. Except for several rays of moonlight shining through the trees, the jungle was dark. It was night. 

And the dragons were nocturnal. 

Where was the Alpha?

Pandaki looked around him; it could be here, he knew. The dragon could blend in to her background, and at night it was easier; but as he had realized earlier, he knew the sound of her breathing. If she was nearby, at least she was not close enough to kill him. 

But still...she might be anywhere. 

Once again, Pandaki was overcome with hatred for the monster he had created. All the others had been wonderful, creatures that should not have been brought back--but _natural_ creatures, _beautiful_ creatures. The Alpha, on the other hand…

The Alpha had never existed before. This was her first experience with the galaxy, her first experience with every kind of creature that had ever been born. 

And she had suddenly found herself at the top of the food chain. 

As he took a step forward, Pandaki’s foot sank into something soft; and, looking down, he noticed something that he should have noticed a minute earlier. 

A gigantic footprint in the ground. 

Pandaki looked around, his heart hammering in his chest; but the next footprint was farther ahead, about twelve feet. Then another, and another...headed in a different direction. 

Back toward the hospital. 

In seconds, he was running--running, faster than he’d run before, and yanking the comlink out of his pocket, dialing Aphra’s number. 

“Doctor!” he shouted. “Doctor!”

“Back at you,” came the wry female voice from the other end. “Are you all right? Why the hell did you--”

“No time,” Pandaki said grimly. “Skywalker is in danger--and there is something else at play, something I never could have predicted. I need you to enter the jungle from the east, and do not stop until you find me.” 

“What is it? What’s going on?”

Pandaki looked around; so far, there was no sign of dragons. 

“Listen carefully,” he said. “The gist of it is this: the Canyon krayts are working for the Alpha.” 

  
  


_“Luke! Luke!”_

_This time, someone is calling_ his _name._

_In the middle of the corridor, he turns around. Where are they? Who’s calling for him?_

_“Luke!”_

_A different voice._

_“Skywalker!”_

_And_ that _is a different voice._

_They’re all different people._

_The voices blend together, calling for him in some way or another; some use his first name, others his last, some call him Commander. He does not know any of them, but they are calling for him._

_They need him._

_And what was he doing? Why was he abandoning them?_

_He doesn’t know. All he knows--_

_“LUKE!”_

_That voice he knows. It’s Ruya Naberrie, his cousin._

_All he knows is that he has to go back. He has to help them._

_“I’m coming!” he shouts, and breaks into a run, sprinting toward them--_

_And stops. Midair._

_Some invisible force has him, no,_ the _Force. Someone is using it, dragging him back--he tries to run, toward the people who are screaming, but he can’t--the hold is too powerful, he can’t push against it--_

_Then, suddenly, the invisible hold is gone, and then a very real grip seizes his arm. Real, and strong, and hard as durasteel._

_Vader. Of course it’s Vader._

_“Let me go!” He pushes against the impossibly strong grip, but Vader won’t budge. “I have to help them.”_

_“They do not matter,” Vader tells him coldly._

_“But they’ll die!”_

_“Yes, and you must accept that. It is your destiny.”_

It’s not, _he wants to yell,_ it is NOT my destiny. _But suddenly his voice doesn’t work._

_He continues to struggle, kicking and pushing against Vader, against his terrible father, but he can’t escape--and all the while the screams grow louder, and so does the roaring, the scraping of claws against the wall--the dragons. The dragons are coming, and he’s the only one who can stop them--but Vader won’t let him--_

“Luke!” 

_The voice cuts through the whirlwind of thoughts, cuts through his panic--because he knows who that is, like he knows himself. It’s Leia._

_Leia is with the others._

_She is going to die._

_“NO!” Suddenly he can scream again. “LET ME GO!”_

_But Vader doesn’t. Instead, he turns Luke around, so that he is facing the direction of the screams, and in the distance, Luke thinks he can see them. He can see the dragons tearing those innocent people, tearing Leia and Ruya to pieces._

_“This will facilitate your turn to the Dark Side.”_

_“No! I have to stay!”_

_“Now, you will watch them die.”_

_“I HAVE TO STAY!”_

_There is a scream, from Leia--a roar--and then there is nothing._

Danger. 

Luke sat upright with a gasp--and then he groaned. 

Why was it that _every time_ he fell asleep, he had another version of that awful nightmare? 

And why was it that the last two had involved Leia?

_I have to stay, I have to stay--_

That was the only feeling that remained, besides vague memories of panic and of Vader holding him still: the knowledge that he could not leave, that he had to stay, until all the dragons were dead. 

And then, the thought hit him. 

What was he _doing?_

He was leaving. He was leaving Felucia, which at the moment was full of bloodthirsty dragons...and he was leaving the hospital completely undefended to go with Darth Vader just on the vague promise that he would learn more about his mother. Sure, _some_ of the dragons were dead, but not nearly all of them...including the Alpha. The Alpha and the Greater krayt, and some of the Canyons, were _all alive._ And he was leaving them there, with the people in the hospital, with Ruya and her family, just to find out more about his mother, and maybe to find out whether or not his father cared about him. 

And that...that was selfish. Why had he not realized it until now?

He was leaving people undefended out of _selfishness._

And selfishness was of the Dark Side. 

But beyond that, beyond that fact, there was also the fact that leaving innocent people to die was _wrong._ His grandmother--and his mind was still reeling from _that_ knowledge--had already died, and it had been ultimately the fault of the dragons; they were ruthless creatures, and until they died or the people in the hospital were saved, they would continue to kill. 

He could not leave. He hadn’t even wanted to in the first place; he had only done so because of a selfish reason. And maybe it would do him good...maybe. He didn’t know it for sure. But what he did know was that he had been determined to help these people, and over the course of three days, he had been talked out of it. 

Vader, he realized, was beginning to have a dangerous influence over him. 

But he had to tell him. 

They had to go back. 

Slowly, Luke turned his head; Artoo was staring out the viewport. They...were still on Felucia. 

In fact, they hadn’t even cleared the trees yet. 

“Artoo,” he said, and the droid turned to look at him. “Help me up.” 

_No,_ the droid told him stubbornly. _Your leg is very wounded._

“Yeah, I know.” Luke rolled his eyes. “Help me up, or I’ll do it myself.”

_You cannot. You will fall over._

“Artoo, I’m not joking,” Luke told him sternly. “I need to talk to m...to Vader.” 

_You are correct not to call him your father. He has not earned it._ Artoo rolled closer. _But before you do, I have something to tell you._

Luke leaned forward. “What?”

_About a minute ago, there was a dragon watching us._

That was huge. Luke’s eyes blew wide. 

“What?” he demanded. “A dragon? Watching us? Specifically?”

Artoo whistled a yes. 

Luke felt nothing but shock. He had not believed that these dragons were _that_ intelligent, but the way it sounded...this one had known who was on the ship. 

It had only been a minute ago. 

He took a shaky breath. “Okay. What kind of dragon?”

_The same kind I knocked unconscious._

A Canyon krayt dragon. 

Of course. Of kriffing course it was one of them. They were the most intelligent dragons Luke had ever seen; clearly, the one he’d met when he was thirteen years old had not been in top form. 

“Is it still there?” he asked quietly. 

_No. It left. It seems to be playing the role of a scout._

A scout. 

Scouting for who? The rest of its pack?

 _Danger,_ whispered the Force. _Danger._

Luke was hungry, dead tired, and hurting in several places--he wanted nothing more than to keep sitting down. But something had to be done. 

“Artoo,” he growled through clenched teeth, “I don’t care what you think, _help me up.”_

 _I am beginning to think that this time you are right,_ Artoo said, and rolled forward just enough. Gripping the wall, Luke dragged himself to his feet. Immediately, pain shot through the right leg; but for once, not as much. The bacta patches, it appeared, were finally doing their job. After several seconds, Luke let go of the wall and leaned instead on Artoo, one hand against the droid’s domed head to balance himself. 

_All right. Move slowly._

“Luke!” Vader called suddenly from the cockpit. 

He had sensed it, too. 

“Not a chance,” Luke muttered, and walked forward as fast as he possibly could. Immediately, his leg began to hurt, but he told himself it was a few more seconds, just a few more seconds--

Suddenly Vader emerged, and Luke stopped himself so fast he nearly fell. 

“You have felt it,” he said. 

“Something was watching,” Luke gasped, putting one hand against the door to the cockpit. “A Canyon krayt. From the jungle.” 

“We are nearly clear. I have put the ship on auto-pilot. Nevertheless--”

"Lord Vader," Piett's voice announced through Vader's comlink. "We have docked on _Executor,_ and are awaiting your arrival."

DANGER, blared in the Force.

"No," Vader snarled, turning away. "It is not _possible--"_

Before he'd finished speaking, something _jolted_ into the ship; it was thrown to the side. Luke was knocked into the air, and before he knew it he was flying toward the opposite wall--then, a moment before disaster, something seized around him and set him on his feet. 

Upright again, he saw Vader lower his fist. 

Luke swallowed, thinking of the vision. 

But he couldn’t think of that at the moment; the ship was flying all over, and with his current injuries, it was almost impossible to stay on his feet at all. Gritting his teeth, he seized the wall with both hands and kept himself steady, forcing himself to think beyond the pain in his leg and ribs. 

“We have to get the ship to the ground!” he shouted. 

Vader didn’t respond; with a glance over his shoulder, Luke saw why. He was busy trying to hold the ship steady with the Force. 

But what had happened in the first place?

Desperate, still trying to stay on his feet, Luke looked out the viewport. They were almost on level with the tops of the trees; everything looked the same as before. It wasn’t raining; it could not have been the weather, and the hospital looked intact. No dragons were in sight. What, then, what had--

Without warning, something moved--something shimmered blocked the view, something large--

A giant eye. 

Terror shot through him, blind terror; but Luke could not bring himself to move. It was a dragon, it was a dragon after all--but...but what--

He knew that eye. 

He’d seen it before, he’d seen that terrifying gaze earlier. It had stared right at him as it gutted him, hungry for his blood...and later, furious that he had escaped. 

The Alpha. 

She wanted him, she wanted them--she was _specifically_ after him, and maybe Vader as well. He did not need the Force to know it. 

All he needed was the look in that eye.

She had been hunting him, maybe for the entire day.

And she would not stop hunting him until one of them was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe a set-up chapter, but from here on out...stuff gets real.


	32. Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Vader have to land the ship; Pandaki has his own problems; Aphra's day is just getting worse.

Despite Vader’s best efforts, the ship was going down. 

He had acted as soon as it became clear that the Alpha was attacking them. Of course, the mere fact of it was a shock; but that would be dealt with later. It was too complicated to think, to talk things out, to philosophize one’s way through life, and he had done far too much of that in the last few days. Here he was faced with a problem--the problem was obvious. They were on eye level with the dragon, which had attacked as they came out of the trees, and she was trying to kill them. He had to stop her. It was easy. 

Or, it should have been; it should have been easy to hold the ship steady with the Force. But they had another problem, too.

With Vader distracted, there was no pilot. 

Which meant that, as the dragon turned away from the viewport--away from  _ his son,  _ thank the Force--and her tail swung against the ship, Vader could not both hold the ship still and pilot. He tried. He tried to hold it in place and direct it away from the dragon, but that sort of force was too much for the ship’s engineering, and to his dismay, it began to plummet towards the ground. 

Instantly, even as the deck slanted, Vader was already moving for the cockpit; and another blow to the ship forced him to focus on his prior task. 

This was the most hopeless situation he could imagine. The Alpha, the mutant dragon that was not supposed to exist, was attacking their ship, and he had to keep it from  _ literally falling to pieces... _ and there was no pilot. He had no options…

Then his gaze fell on Luke, who was hauling himself upright using one of the bulkheads. 

Luke did not need the use of his legs to pilot. 

_ Luke,  _ Vader thought to him instantly. Luke flinched and recoiled at the sudden mental inquiry, but they did not have time for that.  _ I must hold the ship steady, but we are falling; it must be landed safely, or we will all be killed. Will you-- _

_ Of course,  _ Luke thought back before he’d even finished; he seemed eager to fly. 

Naturally. He was his father’s son. 

If not for this situation, Vader thought, this might have been an ideal opportunity for the two of them; for once, they agreed on something. 

Luke staggered toward the cockpit, and Vader felt a need to watch, just in case he needed to help him; that was absurd. The boy might be injured, but he could help himself. 

And besides that, the dragon demanded his full attention. 

The ship was still spinning, closing in on the ground; in the midst of it, Vader heard a small beeping noise, probably a sign that something in the ship was broken or not working. As he recognized that, he realized what would have to happen. The ship was failing, and Luke would have to land it. They would not be able to escape, as he’d anticipated; the Alpha had fully succeeded in grounding them. 

Vader could not take Luke to the  _ Executor.  _

There were three days remaining. 

He had been  _ so close.  _

Vader was suddenly, furiously angry, and as the dragon turned around and attacked again, her giant mouth open to take a bite out of the ship, or even swallow it whole, he did not care what happened to the ship. He did not care what he did; he had never hated that creature more. She had kept him from finally taking Luke to the  _ Executor.  _

It was in this mindset that Vader was able to completely gather the Force, the entire strength of the Dark Side, and shove it at the Alpha. 

There was a roar. He felt, instead of saw, the dragon stagger back...and in that moment, the ship at last righted itself, swung back into control. It was still shaking, something was not working, but the deck was even, and the Force was strong with Luke. 

Vader had expected to feel pride, but all he felt was a spike in anger. That strength was meant to be turned toward the Emperor; but the boy was still insistent on using the Light Side. 

But the worst part was that there was nothing he could do about it. 

Aphra had sounded suspicious initially, but once she’d heard about the horrifying alliance between the two most dangerous subspecies of dragons to exist, she had accepted Pandaki’s words and agreed to meet him at the edge of the jungle. Together, they would take the ship Pandaki had found and find Skywalker and Darth Vader. 

Why the boy had to be stuck with Vader, Pandaki didn’t know. And he didn’t like it. He was fairly sure that Vader wanted to kill him. But he had done enough damage with these creatures, and Luke Skywalker hadn’t asked for any of it, so regardless of who he was with, Pandaki was going to help him. 

A roar shook the earth under his feet, shattered the air; Pandaki shuddered. 

The Alpha. 

She’d found Skywalker.

Pandaki ran faster. 

Minutes passed as he sprinted through the jungle, exhausted, sweat dripping down his back and his joints aching--

And then something moved. 

Pandaki stopped immediately. He may have been in a hurry, but even in a hurry, that specific type of movement...it was familiar. 

But now it was gone. 

A rustling in the bushes behind him, and Pandaki turned again; and there he saw it. It was not directly in front of him, but about twenty meters ahead: a small shape compared to the others he’d seen recently, its green and brown colors barely discernible through the leaves, but he knew it by its eyes. Or rather, he knew  _ her.  _ A Canyon krayt. 

She was looking right at him. 

Pandaki stared back; the dragon didn’t move. She just continued to stare, those reptilian eyes boring into his. He stayed like that for several minutes. 

Then, he took a step to the side. 

She still didn’t move. 

He took another step, his right foot crossing behind his left--then another, staring at the Canyon krayt the whole time. 

She didn’t move. 

But something else did... _ from the right.  _

He’d been tricked by his own dragons. 

Pandaki whirled just in time for the other Canyon krayt, the one he’d missed, to crash into him. He felt only a second of terrible pain, in his leg--

And then he felt nothing at all. 

  
  


Luke had managed to ground the ship. Despite everything, it was as if his injuries had disappeared; he was able to tap into the Force and just do it. 

Everything disappeared when he was flying. 

The ship was completely wrecked; one of the engines had combusted on the way down, and the compressor had been damaged. But Luke had still been able to land it, he’d saved their lives, and he had thought that Vader would be happy about it. Or...well, not happy. He didn’t think it was possible for the man to ever feel  _ happy,  _ but at least...satisfied. 

As it turned out, Vader was not satisfied. 

He was furious. 

The Dark Lord appeared in the cockpit out of nowhere, a black wall of fury right behind him, and Luke yelped. 

“Come,” Vader snarled with a viciousness that was actually surprising; when Luke didn’t move, his father yanked him up by the arm. “We must leave  _ now.”  _

During the time on the ship, Luke’s leg had started to feel numb; now as he was forced to walk, it was as if it wouldn’t work right, but Vader clearly didn’t care. Something was bothering him, Luke thought as he was practically dragged out of the ship, something had really angered him; had he done something? What was--

Oh. 

They were not leaving. 

It was a fact that exhilarated Luke, that relieved him--he would not yet be made to learn the ways of the Dark Side--but of  _ course  _ it had made Vader furious. All he’d wanted in the past three days was to take Luke back with him. 

So Luke decided not to say anything. 

Once they were outside the ship, Vader let go of Luke’s arm, but kept walking forward. Luke followed him, Artoo at his side. 

The necessary question, he supposed, was,  _ Where is the dragon?  _

Vader seemed to be asking the same. He had stopped, and was simply standing there, but Luke could tell he was reaching into the Force. Luke should do the same, he knew, but at the moment the thought was too exhausting, and all he could do was focus on standing, and not causing his injury more pain. 

And still he wondered; he looked all around him, eyes searching the jungle, and the expanse of land beyond it. 

Where was the dragon? 

The ground shook behind them, and both Luke and Vader spun around. Slowly, the trees where they’d landed shimmered and vibrated. 

The answer was, right there. 

She stared down at them, malicious intent in her eyes. 

“Don’t--” Luke’s voice trembled, and he cleared his throat. “Don’t use your lightsaber this time.” 

“I was not  _ planning on it,”  _ Vader growled. 

Luke wanted to draw his blaster; he knew it was pointless, but he wanted to. So far he had not been able to fight this thing with the Force. 

So far, though, the Alpha wasn’t moving; there was something terrifying in her reptilian eyes, something cold and calculating, but she had not moved. She simply stood there, staring down at them, her head tilted slightly to the side. 

And then she lunged. 

Luke threw himself to the side, trying to land on his left side so his leg wasn’t jarred. It worked marginally, but as those awful, heavy steps reverberated through the earth at an almost uncanny speed, he knew he’d have to get up again, and that they somehow would have to find a way to escape the Alpha... _ again.  _ Last time it had been Sola and Aphra who’d saved them; and this time they didn’t have that option. 

The dragon was coming, the Alpha was coming--the thought echoed in Luke’s brain on repeat as he forced himself back up, against a tree--

And there she was, bearing down on him. 

Luke didn’t know where Vader was, where Artoo was. All he knew was that he had to survive. She leaped, sharp talons extended; and as she did so, Luke threw himself upwards, just as he had on Bespin, straight into a tree. 

There was a great  _ crash  _ as the Alpha landed--and wasn’t it terrifying to see a monster of that size leap  _ into the air-- _ and Luke took the opportunity to look around. Vader was at least a hundred meters away, and was just getting back on his feet; he must have tried to attack the Alpha, and been knocked back. As for Artoo, he was--

A roar echoed. 

\--he was attacking the dragon, electric prods going after her hind legs, and suddenly, with a flash of fear, Luke knew that his droid was about to get smashed to pieces. 

“No!” he shouted, edging forward on one of the branches, ready to jump. “Artoo, get away!” 

As it turned out, that was not the smartest thing that Luke could have done. The dragon was currently turning around and around trying to stop Artoo--for some reason the electric prods weren’t knocking her unconscious--and Artoo had so far been avoiding her expertly. But as Luke cried out, the Alpha spun towards him, her tail inadvertently knocking into Artoo and sending him flying across the jungle to smack into a tree. 

At least the dragon was now looking at him, and not his droid. 

_ Don’t touch Artoo,  _ he thought viciously.  _ You can rip my leg apart and take my remaining hand from my body, just don’t touch Artoo!  _

The Alpha had been crouched on the ground; now, as she realized her smaller opponent was gone, and her other opponent had returned, she stood up. 

Luke’s heart dropped. 

The Alpha’s full height was on eye level with where he was standing. 

Quickly he was scrambling up, seizing branches and scraping his knees in a desperate effort to climb; every so often, pains shot through his leg, but he ignored them for the sake of climbing higher, ever higher--

The ground was shaking again. Luke spun around to see the dragon  _ running  _ toward him--she was leaping up at him, the jaws open to close around him--

Luke couldn’t help it. He screamed, leaping upward as he’d done before; the Alpha’s jaws snapped shut inches below his feet. Luke grabbed a branch that was almost entirely out of his reach; it strained his muscles, but he hauled himself up anyway, kicking desperately in the air until he was standing on the branch. Then he collapsed on it, gasping, still in shock over how close he’d come to being devoured. 

But it was a temporary relief. The Alpha had landed on the ground with a crash and now paced around the tree, as if figuring out the best way to get at him. 

Luke swallowed. The Alpha was intelligent. The Greater krayt would have given up right away, maybe even the Spitting krayt...but not this one. She was more intelligent than any half-sentient Luke had ever encountered; she’d hunted them down, after all, using the Canyon krayts. Trees were nothing to her. 

Even as he had the thought, the Alpha bent her head low; and then the tree began to shake under Luke. 

She was trying to knock it over. 

At that realization Luke stood up--too fast. His leg shook, and he almost fell before getting his feet under him, and beginning to inch towards the edge of the branch. He could jump. The next tree was just there…

But would his leg hold?

That wasn’t the dilemma, he thought as the tree began to tip, and he had to grab hold of another branch with his hand to keep himself steady. The dilemma was just  _ getting out of this one,  _ because if he fell from this height, he might be injured even  _ worse.  _

And he would be killed either way. 

The tree tipped a little more; it was almost at a forty-five degree angle towards the ground. Luke was jolted, and allowed himself to slide downwards and seize another branch. He’d have to jump soon, he realized, or the tree would tip too far and he wouldn’t be able to jump. 

_ The Force is with me, the Force is with me.  _

Luke glanced at Artoo once more--the droid hadn’t moved, and seemed otherwise all right; it was now or never. Luke bent his knees--

And the dragon stopped pushing. 

The tree, relieved of the pressure, shook and tipped further until Luke was flipped around, and was forced to grab the branch and hang upside down. Then he looked. 

He didn’t have to. 

In the Force, in the air around him, something was building _.  _ Some awful, terrible fury had surrounded everything, determined to kill; had surrounded the dragon, first and foremost, but also Artoo, every tree in a hundred-meter radius...and Luke himself. 

Vader. Of course. He was  _ furious,  _ and he’d let it out. 

But he could feel it centering on him as well, and he could tell something bad was going to happen. 

He needed to do something about it.

_ Stop,  _ he shouted at Vader through his mind.  _ STOP!  _

But it didn’t seem like Vader even heard him...or, if he had, he didn’t acknowledge it. 

There was another roar from the Alpha. 

The next second, the build-up of anger exploded. 

The Alpha shrieked. The trees shook, some of them instantly falling--Artoo screeched--and even as Luke’s tree began to topple as well, he was torn from it by the Force and flung through the air. Desperately, Luke tried to reach for the Force himself, to do something, anything; but all he felt was Vader. 

Vader had actually  _ attacked  _ him--

The dragon was still continuing to scream, but Luke didn’t care about that. He was going to fall and  _ break  _ his leg, or both of them, or more than that--

Suddenly, the anger stopped. Did that mean Vader truly hadn’t done it on purpose? Or was it only now that he felt regret? 

He’d sworn he did not want Luke to be killed, after all. 

But he hadn’t sworn anything else. He had not sworn that he wouldn’t hurt Luke. 

Luke was still falling, he realized, still tumbling through the air--the ground was closing in. He didn’t know where the dragon was; all he knew was that he somehow had to grab onto the Force to stop his fall, and he  _ couldn’t.  _ He’d done it once at Bespin, but unconsciously; he couldn’t focus, couldn’t remember how. 

Then the dragon stopped shrieking, but Luke barely noticed; the ground was still closing, he was still falling, brushing past tree branches along the way, and he still couldn’t--

At the last possible second, Vader’s presence wrapped around him and slowed his fall. 

Just in time. 

Luke slammed into the ground with enough force to knock his teeth out of his mouth. As it was, all his bones were jarred, he skidded backwards through the grass, and an  _ awful  _ pain shot up his wounded leg. Poor Doctor Alvi’s work must have been completely undone by now, he thought grimly. 

That, however, was the least of his worries by now. 

Vader had almost killed the dragon-- _ almost,  _ because as Luke dragged himself into a sitting position, he could see her staggering away in the distance. He really had almost killed her...but he’d been so furious, so lost in the Dark Side, that he’d almost killed  _ Luke  _ in the process. 

Luke couldn’t believe it. But he should have. 

His father was  _ Darth Vader,  _ after all. 

He probably hadn’t meant it.  _ Probably.  _ But that...that made it worse, somehow. Vader was  _ dangerous,  _ and in the last several hours Luke had managed to forget that.

There was a whistle to Luke’s right, and then Artoo was at his side. 

_ Master Luke!  _ The droid sounded deeply concerned.  _ Are you all right? You fell a long way.  _

“Yeah, Artoo,” Luke said, though he did not feel all right. His leg burned with pain twice as much as before, and every bone in his body ached. “I’m...I’m all right.” 

_ I am not happy with More Selfish Master Anakin.  _

Had he been in a different situation, Luke would have laughed at the name. 

“Trust me,” he said. “I’m not happy with him either.” 

  
  


Vader had not lost control of his anger in this way for  _ years.  _

He had always been angry, as long as he could remember. During his time before being a Sith Lord, during the  _ weak  _ point of his life, he had been quietly angry at everything, but not able to express it; everything had been a frustration, nothing had been right. And then, of course, upon losing everything and everyone he had ever cared for, that anger had risen to the forefront--anger and despair were all that he knew, and for the first time in his life, it had become a weapon. No longer was it an explosion, untrained and unguided; it was sharp, honed, and always focused. 

Until now. 

Now, he did not understand why his anger had reached the point that it did. He knew why he was angry; he had not been able to take Luke to the  _ Executor.  _ His hopes had been raised, only to be crushed so suddenly; and so he had been furious, because now he had  _ less  _ than three days. And Luke was still showing no signs of wanting to use the Dark Side. 

But for his anger to explode like that...Vader did not understand it. He should be in control. His anger should have made his senses sharper, his focus clearer; but instead it had whipped outward, attacking anything and anyone nearby. 

Including his son. 

_ He is alive,  _ Vader thought to himself.  _ He is alive, he is speaking with the droid, and no harm was done.  _

_ Liar,  _ whispered a voice in his head.  _ You are lying to yourself.  _

That was new. But the voice was right; harm  _ had  _ been done. He could have killed Luke, just like...just like…

Vader almost exploded again at the thought of that, of... _ her.  _ But he did not. He must focus on his rage, now; he must get Luke off the planet, somehow, consequences be damned. 

He walked across the jungle after making sure the Alpha had left; he had inadvertently hurled his son two hundred meters, at least, but so far he seemed all right. He was sitting under a tree, talking quietly to the droid. 

_ That blasted droid. _

Then, as Vader arrived, Luke’s smile faded; he looked up, fear in his eyes. 

Vader clenched his fists. Once again, he’d begun to undo the little progress he’d made over the last few hours. 

“Luke,” Vader said. He wanted them to leave immediately, but he could at least  _ attempt  _ to bring their relationship back to where it had been before the Alpha attacked. “Are you...all right?”

“Yeah.” With Artoo’s help, Luke stood, bracing himself against the tree. “No thanks to you.” 

“It was a mistake,” Vader said stiffly; he could not bring himself to actually apologize, as it was not something he had even had to consider doing for twenty-two years. “Now, follow me. We are  _ leaving.”  _

He turned briskly and began to walk. 

Luke did not follow him. 

Furious, Vader spun back around. “Young one, I understand that you are angry with me, but  _ we must leave.  _ The dragon may be back soon, and I will  _ not  _ hear any arguments.” 

To his surprise, Luke crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Yes, you will,” he said. 

Vader almost didn’t know what to say to that. In the last few days, Luke had been either afraid of him, or trying to get to know him; never had he challenged him like this. 

Slowly, Vader came closer. He could just intimidate him again; that had worked. 

“You  _ will  _ come with me,” he rumbled. “Or I will destroy that droid.” 

Fear flashed in Luke’s eyes for one moment, then it was gone. 

“That will only make me more angry with you,” he snapped. “And also, it’s not about whether I want to leave with you or not. I don’t, and I was only doing it because I thought I could get to know you better, but I wasn’t even thinking about the people here. That dragon just walked off, and she might kill more of them--”

“The  _ people,”  _ Vader spat. “I have told you before, you should not concern yourself with them.” 

“Not to mention,” Luke went on, completely ignoring him, “all the other dragons out there that have already killed people! Have you forgotten the Greater krayt? The Canyon krayts?  _ The Spitting krayt?”  _

“No, I have not.” Vader almost wished his son would go back to being afraid; this new obstinance was threatening to make him explode again. “But if we leave, they will not attack us, and we will not be in danger from them.” 

“Oh--” Luke threw his hands in the air--he was actually angry, then, or at least frustrated. “That’s not what it’s about! Don’t you get it? I want to save the people, and I know you don’t; but regardless of that we’ve just seen that the Alpha is going to come after us unless she’s dead!” 

_ She is working with the Canyon krayts,  _ Artoo said. 

Vader glanced at him. “What?”

_ I saw one as we left. She was watching us. Then she disappeared, and minutes later, the Alpha appeared.  _

“And why,” Vader growled, “did you not tell me of that?”

_ Because you would not have listened to me.  _

Vader had several good things that he would have liked to say in response, but the droid would likely have had answers for those as well. So he decided to move on. 

“Then we will simply find a better ship,” he said. Luke had been silenced by simple logic before; why would it not work now? “The one we used was clearly not fast enough. This time, we will be ready, and--”

_ “No!”  _

Once again, Vader stared at Luke in shock. 

“Why?” he demanded. 

“We won’t be able to escape,” Luke said, taking a step forward; his leg shook slightly, but he stayed on his feet. At least he was still controlling his pain. “Don’t you see? I know you want to take me with you, but that’s not what this is about.” He looked Vader in the eye, exactly; not even Palpatine was so accurate. “We  _ have  _ to destroy the dragon before we leave.”

Vader half-hoped the boy would call him  _ Father-- _ he had never done so out loud, not consciously--but he did not. It was too much to hope for, anyway. 

And, as much as he hated to admit it, Luke was right. 

They would have to kill the dragon. 

_ So close,  _ he thought, continuing to stare at his son; his son, who could have been installed in his new quarters, who could have been creating his Sith lightsaber.  _ I was so close.  _

  
  
  


Where was Lord Vader? 

Upon their arrival at the  _ Executor,  _ Piett and Veers had gotten to work immediately. Vader had told them to make sure that the corridors were clear, and that was what they set about doing. Of course, it wasn’t as though any of the crew had to be begged to do that; if Lord Vader wanted something done, it would be done. Disobedience--or even  _ reluctance-- _ was not an option. But the  _ Executor  _ had a very large crew, so the task took longer than Piett had expected. 

And yet, when they were finished, there was no sign of the second ship. 

“Where in the bloody galaxy could he be?” Veers muttered. “He gives us an order--”

“Max,” Piett said. 

“I know we don’t question Lord Vader, I’ve been here longer than you.” Veers sighed. “But when  _ dragons  _ are involved, I think we should be concerned.” 

“Oh, of  _ course  _ I’m concerned, I--” Piett didn’t finish. He figured Veers knew how exhausted he was, so he didn’t say it. “All right. Let’s contact him.” 

But even as he had the thought, his comlink rang. 

Veers rolled his eyes. “Frightening, as per usual.” 

“Vader.” Piett pulled the comlink out of his jacket; yes, it was his comm signal. 

“I doubt he can read our minds from this far away--”

“Shut up,” Piett snapped before answering, his voice instantly switching to the respectful tone he used when he was around the Empire’s Enforcer. “Lord Vader?”

“Admiral Piett.” Even through the comlink, Piett could hear the fury obvious in Vader’s voice, and suddenly he remembered that Vader had been able to kill Ozzel from a distance. “I regret to inform you that we have been grounded.” 

“I suspected so, my lord,” Piett said, ignoring Veers’ raised eyebrow. “What is the situation? Should I come for you?”

“Not until I give the word.” Yes, he was definitely angry. “We were attacked by one of the dragons. She will have to be killed before we can leave. Until I manage to do so, retreat to the nearest system; if any Rebels arrive, I do not want them to know that we are here.” 

“Yes, Lord Vader. And when you kill the dragon?”

He knew better than to say “if.” 

“I will inform you. Have a transport ready.” 

“It will be done, my lord,” Piett said, and then he hung up. 

“The dragon?” Veers asked him. 

Piett nodded wearily. “Yes. It was the dragon. We’ll have to hide in a nearby system; if any Rebels show up, I suppose he wants them to land on the planet. Doesn’t want them to see us.” 

“He’s always trying to kill two gundarks with one shot,” Veers said, shaking his head. “Come on, let’s go.” 

But as they turned around, Piett noticed an officer hurrying towards them. 

“Admiral,” he called. “Admiral, a message!” 

Piett frowned. “Yes?”

“Where is Lord Vader?”

“ _ That’s  _ the message?” Piett asked incredulously. 

“N...no,” the officer stuttered. “But...the Emperor has made contact, and wishes to speak with him.” 

Piett felt a chill go up his spine. 

The Emperor wanted to speak with Vader. Vader was not there. 

So he knew who had to do it. 

“Very well,” he said. “I’ll be right there.” 

  
  
  


Aphra had been at the edge of the jungle for twenty minutes. And Pandaki had not yet shown up. 

_ Something’s wrong,  _ she thought.  _ Something happened to him.  _

And she could guess what the “something” was. 

“Come on, buddy,” she muttered. “Come on, I’ve been through too much with you for you to die now.” 

Then, the bushes rustled behind her. That was not Pandaki. She just knew it. 

Slowly, Aphra turned around...and almost screamed. 

A dragon was standing there. 

It was not large. It was  _ small,  _ even for a dragon; smaller than the Canyon krayts. Immediately, Aphra began racking her brain, trying to figure out what the thing was--

Crests. 

There were crests above the eyes. Poison sacs. 

“Don’t spit on me,” Aphra said to the dragon. She felt exhausted. “Can you just--please not spit? Pretty, pretty please, it’s been a rough day. I’ve had enough shit to deal with--”

There was a hiss. Spit flew; Aphra ducked with a shout. 

“Oh, screw you!” She came back to her feet, blaster in hand. “Fine, just--”

The spit landed on her blaster hand this time; Aphra swore and stumbled backward. She shook her hand, dropped the blaster, but that didn’t stop a numb tingle from spreading across her limb. 

“Hey,” she said nervously as the dragon started walking towards her. “Hey, can you just--for one day--” 

The dragon spit again. 

And then lasers fired from behind her; Aphra dropped with a scream as those green beams attacked the Spitting krayt. With a screech, the dragon turned and sped into the jungle. 

Slowly, Aphra caught her breath. The thing wasn’t dead, but...but she’d been saved. 

By whom? 

She turned around. There was a ship sitting there; an entire  _ ship  _ had fired on the dragon. That was overkill, maybe, but she wasn’t complaining. 

Then she realized she recognized that ship. 

It was the  _ Millennium Falcon.  _

“Oh, great,” she muttered. She did not want to see Han Solo again. That smartass had done enough to her, and he’d been really  _ annoying  _ while he was doing it--

But, wait a minute. Hadn’t Solo been put in carbonite and shipped off to Jabba the Hutt? 

Then who was flying his ship? 

That question was answered as the ramp descended, and Solo’s Wookiee walked down it and onto the planet...followed by a Rebel pilot and the Princess of Alderaan herself. 

Aphra ignored her numb arm and stood up. 

“Great,” she said. “Not  _ you  _ again.” 

In response, Leia Organa crossed her arms over chest.   


"You're welcome," she said with a smirk.   



	33. The Solution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Vader go after the Alpha; Leia and Doctor Aphra join forces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well well well if it isn't my old friend, warnings of gory descriptions! :D The scene is at the end, and it's short, but watch out anyway.

Of all the people Leia Organa had expected to run into first, Doctor Chelli Lona Aphra had not been one of them. 

She had hoped to find Luke first, but was also aware that if the vision was correct, he could be severely injured. She’d been _prepared_ to meet Vader, who would most certainly not be injured; that was why she had brought two blasters, a knife, and several hand grenades. Another one on her mind had been Luke’s droid, R2-D2. He might have been of some assistance to her; and beyond that, she always liked to see him. 

But _Aphra?_

That had not been expected. 

Especially since she’d had to save the woman, and had then been rewarded with a complaint. 

Actually, never mind. That last part was very expected. 

“You’re welcome,” Aphra echoed. “Yeah, I shouldn’t have thought I’d get any more from _you._ You’re just as arrogant, just as much of a stuck-up brat as you’ve always been--”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Leia told her, walking forward. “Guess who just saved your medical ass? I don’t know what I expected, maybe...gratitude? Because otherwise, without me, _you’d be dead?_ I don’t know, maybe I was stupid to expect that from you, but I wouldn’t mind a _little_ less attitude.” 

“You hung around that captain too much, before he got shipped off to Jabba the Hutt,” Aphra grumbled. As she spoke, she shook her right arm; now that Leia noticed, it seemed to be coated with some kind of...goo. “What was his name? Han Solo?”

The name set a fire in Leia, and she clenched her fists. 

_Was,_ Aphra had said. 

_Not in the past tense,_ she thought, trying to get herself to calm down. _Not past tense. He_ is _Han Solo. He’s still alive. Lando’s going off to save him…_

It didn’t help that Leia had abandoned that particular mission to come here. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped. “So just shut up.” 

Aphra’s eyebrows shot up; her eyes widened, as if she’d finally realized something. “Wait a minute, you’re in _love_ with him, aren’t you? I should’ve known, I could smell the tension off the two of you the last time I saw you.” She snorted. “No wonder you’re so uptight, if he’s in carbonite--”

Leia saw red. 

The next thing she knew, she had Aphra pinned against the _Falcon._

“Don’t talk about what you don’t understand,” she snarled into the doctor’s face. “Han’s _alive,_ and I have someone going after him right now; but if you don’t watch him, you’ll be more dead than he’s been the last weeks--”

_“Leia!”_

Leia turned around. Wedge was walking toward them. 

Reluctantly, she let go of Aphra. 

“Maybe try not to start any fights,” he said lightly. 

“Sure,” Leia said, shooting Aphra a venomous look. “If _she_ doesn’t step into things she doesn’t _understand--”_

Aphra raised her hands in surrender. The right trembled. 

“What is that?” Wedge asked. “Did that dragon…”

“It got me,” Aphra said, “and I’ve been meaning to ask if you can help me with that.” 

Leia crossed her arms. “Sure you have.” 

Aphra rolled her eyes, opened her mouth as if to offer a retort...and then seemed to think better of it. 

“Here,” she said, lifting a bag off the ground with her left arm. “Take this. There’s a small vial--”

Leia didn’t move. “You think I _want_ to help you?”

“Leia,” Wedge said, but Leia cut him off. 

“I saved her life when she’s done nothing but undermine me and the Rebellion in the past. What does she do to repay me? She insults me, she insults Han specifically because she knows it’ll get to me, and I need to find Luke.” Leia turned back to Aphra, trying not to let the pained look in the doctor’s eyes get to her. “I don’t have time for this.” 

“Listen,” Aphra said hoarsely, “I’m sorry I said that, I overstepped, I’m sorry. But these dragons are far from dead, and I have a weapon that can do some kind of damage to them; not kill them. And I left it back at the hospital. But it’s better than a blaster, and unless my arm doesn’t get fixed soon, it’s going to be useless for the rest of my life.”

Great. As much as she’d tried, Leia couldn’t help but feel for Aphra. Maybe it was because she looked too much like Luke had, that awful day on Bespin, hunched over and clutching his arm to his chest, but beyond that, there was no point to being this petty. 

“Fine,” she said. “What do I do?”

Aphra looked visibly relieved. 

“Take the small, orange vial,” she instructed, and Leia began to search through the bag. “Put six drops on my arm, wait ten seconds. Then rub them around, until you’ve covered the entire area.” 

Leia raised an eyebrow. “Just six drops?”

Aphra sighed. “Do _you_ have three science degrees?”

 _Are_ you _ever on the right side of the law?_ Leia wanted to shoot back, but she held her tongue. After a few seconds, she found the vial and released six drops onto Aphra’s arm. 

Aphra looked nervous. “Make sure you--”

“I know how long to wait,” Leia snapped. “Shut up.”

Then the ten seconds were up, and Leia started slowly moving the liquid around. As she did so, she noticed that the sticky residue she’d seen before was gone. That must have been what had paralyzed her--the dragon had spit at her, or something--and now it was gone. 

That could have paralyzed Leia, too. That’s why she’d waited; the serum had had to do its work in neutralizing the...spit. 

She was _not_ admitting it to Aphra. But the doctor knew her stuff. 

“Do you want me to do anything?” Wedge asked from behind her. 

Leia thought about it. It would be faster to fly the _Falcon_ all over the planet; it was what she wanted. She wanted...no, she needed to find Luke. She needed to be sure he was okay. 

But their arrival had clearly startled the dragon before. 

They would have to be discreet. 

“Shut down the _Falcon,”_ she told him. “Stand guard with Chewie and Threepio. I’ll go with Aphra to find Luke.” 

Aphra’s head snapped up. 

“You’re looking for Luke,” she said. 

“Uh...yes.” Leia frowned, surprised that Aphra was on a first-name basis with him; and, if she was being honest, slightly weirded out. “Why?”

A strange look came into Aphra’s eyes. 

“So am I,” she said. 

That was a lot to take in; Leia would never have dreamed that Aphra and Luke would be working together on...on _anything,_ not to mention being...friends. But Aphra sounded legitimately worried for him. 

“This should be rubbed in completely,” Aphra said. “Um…well, I guess... _thank you.”_

It sounded like it physically pained her to say those words. Leia rolled her eyes. 

“Forget it,” she said. “Let’s go find Luke.” 

  
  


Darth Vader was still furious, as far as Luke could tell. He set a faster pace than usual--which was saying a lot--so once again Luke’s leg was put to the test. Luke was also extremely exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep for a week; but it was obvious that Vader wouldn’t let him do that. There was nothing in that man’s mind, Luke knew, but the need to leave the planet. And if the Alpha, and the other dragons, stood in the way of that, then Vader would stop at absolutely nothing to kill her. 

They walked in silence, Vader in the lead, Artoo and Luke walking--or _rolling,_ on Artoo’s part--behind him. And all the while, Luke never stopped thinking about what he had almost done. 

He had almost gone with Vader. 

He had almost left all these people behind, at the mercy of the dragons. 

“We’re tough, here on Tatooine,” Aunt Beru had told him once. “We shouldn’t have to be this way, but we are--this planet has too many dangers. And yet, despite that…” She’d smiled and ruffled his hair. “Despite that, you’re a good person.”

Luke had been seven, and had looked up at her with adoration; in his mind, there was no better person in the world than Aunt Beru. 

“I am?” he’d asked. “And what does that mean?”

“It means you’re a special person, Luke.” Beru had smiled down at him, and then Luke knew she was telling the truth. “Being kind on Tatooine is special. It means you know how awful the world is, but you’re going to be kind anyway.” 

“It does?” Luke hadn’t quite understood that; all he knew was that it sounded amazing. “That’s cool.” 

“It really is,” Beru had laughed. “And it means something else, too.” She’d knelt down, then, to look him in the eye. “It means you have to help people. The galaxy is a terrible place, but we can make it better…” She poked him in the chest, and Luke had giggled. “You can make it better. So if you see anyone in trouble, if there’s any injustice, and you’re sure you can do something about it...then do it.” 

Luke had frowned. “But Uncle Owen says I need to not get into trouble. I need to keep myself safe.” 

“He…” Beru had put a finger to her lips, as if she were telling Luke a juicy secret. “Your uncle is very protective, and he’s worried about a lot of things. You, especially. But I’m sure that if he saw something bad happening, he’d try to stop it, too. So never, never hesitate to do something. Looking the other way is almost as bad as doing the awful thing yourself. You’re a very, very special boy, Luke; you’re kind, and you’re strong, and I just know you’re going to get even kinder and stronger. But just be sure you don’t keep that strength to yourself.” Then she had taken his hand, and Luke knew the conversation was over. “Come on, the suns are setting. Let’s go watch.” 

Luke had not understood what she meant, then; not exactly. He _had_ grown up with an innate sense of needing to help people, so he must have listened to her, but the whole time, he had not understood what she meant. 

Now he did. 

Now he understood, horribly, what he had almost done. He hadn’t been thinking. Obviously, he hadn’t been thinking; he’d been so desperate to know more about his mother, so desperate to know that his father was not just a terrible person, that it _was_ possible for him, and Luke himself by extension, to be good…

So desperate to know that his father cared. 

It was all Luke had needed to know, for an entire month. 

But even that was not worth the sacrifice of other people. 

Luke had almost betrayed Aunt Beru, betrayed himself, betrayed everything he had ever known...and thanks to what was clearly the will of the Force, he’d been stopped. 

But beyond that was another problem. Luke didn’t even want to go with Vader. Had he really decided to go just to find out information he needed? 

Or had he let himself be coerced into it? 

He didn’t know. All he knew was that Vader was beyond desperate for Luke to go with him; he’d sensed it more, with each passing day, but Vader was _nervous._ For some reason, he needed Luke to go with him, even more than he had at Bespin, and it couldn’t be for any good reason. 

Suddenly, Luke saw things clearly. 

He had to kill the dragons, or at least the ones that posed any threat. He had to help. He had to save the people. 

And, somehow, he had to escape his father before they left the planet. 

  
  


Sola Naberrie didn’t know the fastest way to get to Luke. She didn’t know where he could be, where Vader could have taken him; all she knew was that she could not allow him to leave like this. 

Vader would corrupt him. Vader would take that brilliant, sweet boy and _destroy_ him, kill all the goodness inside him until he was every bit as cruel, merciless, and exacting as his father. Luke, Padme’s son, the only thing _left_ of her sister, would become a terrifying Sith Lord under Vader’s watchful eye...and then the galaxy would be destroyed as well. 

Sola could not let that happen. 

So they took the largest ship she could find. 

She got in the pilot’s seat, Amil was her co-pilot, and they stuck Ruya in the passengers’ compartment, where she would not only be safe, but far away from the gun turret. If Ruya got her hands on that, she would absolutely start playing with it. 

“What are we looking for?” Amil asked her as she flew. “Where could he have taken Luke?”

“I don’t know.” Sola drove them a little faster. “They could be anywhere. I just--”

A tremor shook the earth. Mid-air, the ship wobbled. 

“What the hell--” Amil started. 

“The dragon,” Sola realized out loud; and even as she spoke the words, she saw the gigantic form of the Alpha rise out of the trees. It was headed straight for...for…

A ship. 

The ship carrying Luke and Darth Vader. 

Sola stopped the ship. What was she supposed to do? Everything was going so wrong, all at once--

“She came back,” she breathed. “Of course she came back, she’s gone after them!” Desperately, she looked over at Amil. “I have no idea what to do. It’s not like I can attack that thing, but Luke is going to…” 

Sola stopped speaking. As she watched, the ship began to descend, trailing smoke...but it held itself half-steady, as if someone was attempting to steer it. 

They were all right. For now, they were going to be okay. 

But for how long? 

“Mama!” Ruya materialized in the cockpit. “What’s going on? It’s the dragon, isn’t it?”

Amil sighed. “Yes, Ruya, yes. It’s the dragon.” 

Sola wondered if Ruya was going to ask to pilot the ship, or something else similarly insane--after the last three days, she did not trust her--but instead, Ruya’s lip trembled. 

“Is Luke gonna be okay?” she asked. 

Sola’s heart went out to her daughter. She cared so much for Luke already...and she didn’t even know she was his cousin. 

But for some reason, Sola didn’t want to tell her. Not yet. 

Just in case Luke died...or worse. 

Well. He wasn’t _going to,_ because he had an aunt who was going to make sure of it.

“Yes,” Sola said grimly; she sent the ship rocketing forward. “Yes, Ruya. Luke’s going to be more than okay. I _promise.”_

  
  
  


It took about half an hour of walking through the dark, but at last Leia had the full story of what had happened...and it was absolutely _wild._

“So,” she said. “Let me get this straight. Luke came here to get the Rebel soldiers installed in the hospital--and to find Han, under my orders--and ran into you, while you were looking into LARS. You asked him to help you, he refused, Darth Vader showed up and you tried to...fake your death, or something. Which did not work. You then discovered the egg of a krayt dragon, which you thought was definitely extinct, ran into Luke, _again--”_

“It was so weird,” Aphra said. “We kept meeting.” 

“And then you got accidentally brought down into the facility, which had gone underground to avoid the Empire--you met the mad scientist himself, who _faked_ being upset--”

“Not such a mad scientist after all,” Aphra said. “And by the way, I don’t know where he--”

“Not important right now. We’ll get to that. Let me keep processing this, which is an _insane amount of information--”_

“All right, all right.” Aphra raised her hands defensively. “Continue.” 

“But so then he showed you all of the dragons he created illegally, completely denied the existence of any of them having escaped, then reconfirmed it _after_ Vader showed up again and all the power went off. Then the Greater krayt got out, you ran into Luke again, who had escaped Vader--that I don’t find surprising, he’s good at that--”

Aphra shook her head. “You have no idea.” 

“--and you all had to escape the krayt dragon, which then burst out of the facility, ripped off the scientist’s arm, and killed two of the people from the facility. Luke got stuck with Vader but you didn’t know what happened to him; you got the scientist off to the jungle, then ran into…” Leia frowned. “I’m sorry, Sola _Naberrie?_ Who was looking for her daughter, who, according to you, eventually ran into both Luke and Darth Vader? And starting traveling with them? Is...is this all correct?”

“Sure is.” Aphra looked over her shoulder, then said lightly, “And maybe keep your voice down. The dragons like to hunt at this time of night.” 

Leia thought about snapping at her again, but Aphra was right. She took a deep breath. 

“Okay,” she said. “Yeah, sorry.” She cleared her throat. “So...so what happened next?”

“Well…” Aphra frowned. “Well, then the mutant dragon--which we’ve started calling the Alpha--tracked us, which is easy for her to do, because she can camouflage herself. Turn invisible in the jungle, essentially.” 

“Ah,” Leia said, trying not to overreact. “Turn invisible. I got it. Well, if that’s true…” She lowered her voice. “How do we know she’s not following us right now?”

Aphra swallowed. “We don’t.” 

Leia stopped short. “Oh, great. So I’m here with you, we don’t have any of the weapons we need yet, and you _just now_ tell me there _might_ be an invisible, carnivorous, practically unkillable dragon on our tail?”

“Listen,” Aphra said, sounding much too calm for the situation, “in--in my defense--”

Leia rolled her eyes. “Oh, do tell.” 

“I happen to know that this dragon went after Luke and Darth Vader,” she said. “So the chances of it being around us are very small.” 

“That’s not reassuring,” Leia told her. 

“It’s better than having it be for sure right behind us, isn’t it?”

Leia had no idea how to explain to Aphra the seriousness of the situation. After three days around these monsters, she’d have thought that Aphra might have grasped that herself. 

“Well,” she said through gritted teeth, “it would be better, don’t you think, if I knew _exactly where the hell it is at all!”_

The sound echoed. Abruptly, Leia realized that she’d been a bit too loud.

“Anyway,” she said. 

Aphra sighed. _“Thank_ you, Your Worship.” 

_Your Worship._ Leia felt the need to physically attack her again. 

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “Leia’s fine.”

Aphra sighed again. “Do you want to know the rest of the story, or not?”

“I’m not sure I do, if it’s not important. What I need to know is what’s going on with the dragons, and if Luke is alive.” 

“As far as I know he is,” Aphra said. “He got a pretty nasty bite from the Alpha, but we took him to the hospital, and he’s been putting bacta patches on it.” 

“Um...okay.” Leia took deep breaths; a leg wound, in this environment, would be pretty dangerous. It would be difficult for Luke to run, or fight the dragons, or even walk at all...but if he was at least trying to take care of it, it couldn’t be terrible. “That’s...that’s better than I expected, actually. And the dragons?”

“There’s the spitting one you...you…” Aphra hesitated. “Scared off.” 

Leia was sure she’d been trying to avoid saying _the one you saved me from._ What an impossible woman. 

“And there’s the Greater krayt,” Aphra continued quickly, “the one that attacked us first; I have no idea where that one is. I haven’t seen her. Then the Alpha itself, and then the Canyon krayts, and...this is something important.” 

“Okay,” Leia said, bracing herself. 

“The Canyon krayts are the reason why the Alpha could attack Luke and Darth Vader,” Aphra explained. “See, the Alpha was created from two sets of DNA: Greater, and Canyon. That means it’s got all the size, stamina, and brutality of the Greater krayt...and the intelligence of the Canyon krayts. Those things are terrifying.” 

Leia was starting to be frightened, but she wasn’t going to show it. 

“Which things?” she asked. “You’re going to have to be more specific.” 

Aphra rolled her eyes. “The Canyon krayts. They’re the smallest of the three, but...I’ve never seen anything like them. They’re vicious, but they’re wicked smart. The Greater krayt, see, she hunts by movement. If you freeze in place, she won’t come after you. But the Canyons...they know you’re alive. They can smell. They think...they’re almost as intelligent as we are.” 

This time, Leia had nothing to say. The thought was horrifying. 

She wondered if the Canyon krayts were the ones she’d seen in her dream. 

“They know how to open doors,” Aphra said, “and they can do more, I just haven’t seen it yet. But their intelligence is the reason why the Alpha’s so awful...and the worst thing is, they’ve been working together.” 

“They…” Even after all this, Leia was still shocked. “They _what?”_

“Doctor Pandaki told me. He went after them; it’s the most reckless, the bravest thing I’ve ever seen. He went into their den...and he found eggs, thousands of them. They’ve all mated with the Alpha.”

“But--” There was something wrong about that, something Leia couldn’t put her finger on. “You told me the dragons are all female.” 

“That was Pandaki’s mistake,” Aphra grumbled. “You can’t count on that. You can’t engineer these things to do whatever you want; they find a way. Life finds a way, every time. Without fail. It’s how biology works.”

“So,” Leia realized out loud, “some of them found a way to change gender. That’s what you’re saying?”

Aphra nodded grimly. 

“And one of them must have told the Alpha that Luke and Vader were leaving,” she said, “or something. I thought they’d kill each other, but...it seems they’ve become allies, instead.” 

This was too much, this was terrifying--but strangely, it also made sense. Leia forced herself to take several deep breaths. 

“And that’s all the information you have for me,” she said. 

“Besides that Pandaki’s missing? And he didn’t meet me? And he probably fell prey to those things?” Aphra shrugged. “Yeah. That’s it.” 

Leia had no idea how Aphra was staying so calm. 

“All right,” she said. “Now I understand things a bit better.” 

“Damn it, Leia,” Aphra muttered. “How are you staying so calm?”

Leia blinked. Maybe she wasn’t doing so terribly, after all. Then again...she really didn’t like having anything in common with Chelli Lona Aphra. 

“I’m not,” she said frankly. “And now I have information for you.” 

Aphra crossed her arms. “Is this going to help? Because I have no idea where Luke is--”

“I know how to defeat the dragons.”

Aphra’s eyes sparkled. “I’m listening.” 

Quickly, Leia told her all about what she’d learned: the snail acid that was in the facility’s basement, that could neutralize the armor so that a lightsaber or another strong weapon could pierce it. 

“That’s…” Aphra ran her hands through her hair. “Wow. That’s _huge._ I didn’t think there was any way to defeat these things, but--wow. So, is Luke going to have a lightsaber?”

“He will,” Leia said. “I’ve got the tools for it right here.” 

“Now we _really_ need to find him.” 

Leia snorted. “No kidding.”

“So.” Aphra cleared her throat. “We find Luke, figure out what his plan is, then we go back to the facility and get the stuff?”

“Right.” 

“Why not go now?”

Leia didn’t answer immediately. She knew it wasn’t logical, she knew they should go and get that serum...but she also had to be sure that Luke was okay. 

“Because we need to find out Luke’s plan,” she said. 

Aphra looked skeptical, but fortunately she didn’t question it. 

“Okay,” she said. “And how are we supposed to use that stuff against the dragons?”

That question Leia knew the answer to. She’d thought about it long and hard. 

“We are going to put it inside some blasters,” she said, “and fire it at them.” 

Aphra smiled. “Sounds like a plan.” 

They walked for several more minutes in silence, and the entire time, Leia was aware of where they were, what was around them, where they were going. She was not going to let a dragon sneak up on them. 

She also noticed that, every so often, Aphra would touch her arm, as if relieved that it was all right. 

That put a thought in Leia’s head. 

“By the way,” she said, and they stopped walking, “you said earlier your arm would be completely useless if it was permanently paralyzed. Why not get a prosthetic?”

Aphra just looked up at the sky. 

In that moment, it occurred to Leia just how much the woman reminded her of Han.

Then, it also occurred to her why her question had been pointless. 

“Oh.” She sighed. “Let me guess. You can’t check in to any kind of medcenter, because you’re a known criminal, and as soon as they heal you, they’ll turn you in.” 

Aphra looked back at Leia. 

“Bingo,” she said. 

Leia sighed. “Why do I fall in with these kinds of people?”

  
  
  


They walked for another hour, through the dark of the jungle. It was a struggle, the entire time, to keep awake; but Luke made himself do it. They needed to stop the Alpha. 

But after a while, Luke became curious. Vader was going to have a plan...but judging by his constant rage, he wondered how good that plan was actually going to be. Ignoring the pain in his leg--a thing which had become quite easy to do--he made himself walk a little faster, to catch up with Vader. 

“So,” he said, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice, “how, exactly, do you plan to kill the Alpha?”

“By killing it,” Vader told him. 

Luke blinked. It sounded so simple...but he knew, based on their last two encounters with the creature, that the plan would not work. Vader could not use his lightsaber...and if he used the Force, Luke couldn’t know that Vader wasn’t going to kill _him_ along with the dragon. 

He should have known this would be Vader’s plan. 

“Um...okay,” he said. “Okay. I just think…”

Vader stopped short, turning slowly to face Luke. The moon’s rays played eerily off his helmet, making him look even more terrifying than usual. 

Luke swallowed. He was not going to be afraid, he was not--

“Do you doubt me?” Vader asked, quietly, at last. 

“Not...exactly,” Luke said. “But you can’t kill her with your lightsaber.” 

“No,” Vader said, and there was a dangerous edge to his voice. “That is obvious. I am going to crush it with the Force.” 

“Yeah,” Luke said; this was what he had been afraid of. “Okay. But last time--”

“And if you were willing to use the Dark Side, you would be able to help me. But you are not. So you will stay out of it.” 

Luke closed his eyes at the insult; it took all his strength not to insult Vader back, but at the moment he wasn’t sure what that would make his father do. 

“All right,” he said, “but last time--”

Vader’s hands clenched into fists. “Last time is irrelevant.” 

“No, it’s _not,”_ Luke snapped. He remembered all too well how terrifying it had been to feel the Dark Side concentrated around him in that way, to be thrown through the air...and beyond that, it was giving him uncomfortable reminders of Bespin. “How can _I_ be sure that you won’t attack _me_ again? I don’t--”

Vader’s fury exploded. 

“I will NOT harm you!” he roared. 

In response, the surrounding trees trembled, and Luke felt the Dark Side press close around him again. 

He swallowed. He had to escape...he had to get out of here…

“Yeah, right,” he managed to say. 

Vader stood there, fists clenched, towering over him...but he said nothing. It was as if he couldn’t figure out what to say; and all the while, the Dark Side of the Force continued to rage, to build. It wanted death. Vader wanted _someone’s_ death, and as much as he’d sworn that he wouldn’t hurt Luke, he _had_ almost hurt him, he _had_ lost control, and he might accidentally kill Luke. 

_I will not die,_ Luke thought to himself, _I won’t die, I won’t--_

Suddenly, almost too suddenly, the anger was gone. 

“I will not harm you,” Vader said again, quietly; there was repressed anger behind his voice. “I will not lose control. You must trust me.” 

He’d said this before. And Luke had accepted it. He wanted to trust Vader, wanted to trust his father...

But why, _why_ should he trust him? 

_The galaxy is a terrible place, but we can make it better…_

What did that mean? That he could make Vader better? He wanted to. He wanted to know he had a father who cared about him. He wanted it more than anything…

“You do not trust me,” Vader said. 

Luke looked up at him, forced himself to stare into the horrifying lenses. 

“No,” he said. “I don’t.” 

“Then…” Vader reached forward and put a heavy hand on Luke’s shoulder; Luke wished he would stop doing that. Vader seemed to have no awareness of personal space, and more than anything Luke hated having the man touch him, at all. “Then I will try to change that.” 

Luke blinked. He hadn’t expected that. 

He...he was trying? For Luke? 

But he’d lost control, he’d lashed out…

This was all confusing. Vader was so confusing, and Luke didn’t know what to make of him anymore. 

But some hopeful part of him, something that refused to die, wanted a father who cared. 

So, very slowly, he nodded. 

“Okay,” he said, and tried to shrug the hand off his shoulder. “Can you…” 

Almost reluctantly, Vader stepped back. 

And then, immediately, Luke felt it. 

There was someone near; someone who meant something to him. It was like when he sensed Vader, but better...this presence was not overbearing, or terrifying; it was no presence that threatened to destroy everything around it. This...this felt safe. Loving. 

It felt like _home._

Slowly, very slowly, he turned around. 

There was a young woman approaching them, someone Luke knew; someone he’d thought about for days on end. She didn’t seem real, but somehow she was. He had only seen her three days ago, but it felt much, much longer than that. 

“Leia,” he breathed, turning away from Vader to take a stumbling step towards her. “Leia, I don’t believe--”

“Stop,” Vader snarled, yanking Luke back to his side. 

The hopeful look in Leia’s eyes vanished, as if she’d remembered why she had come here. It was replaced by a look of fury. 

Then, she was marching toward them. Toward Vader, specifically. 

“You bastard,” she hissed. “How dare you touch him, how dare you be _anywhere near him_ after what you did to him on Bespin! You’re not going to take him away. You are going to _let him go,_ or I swear I’ll fire on you with every blaster I have, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll stab you until you die, and if THAT doesn’t work I’ll dismantle your life support myself--”

“Leia!” Luke cut her off. 

Leia turned to look at him. “What?”

“This...isn’t the time,” he said. “We could use your help.” 

“No, we could _not,”_ Vader snapped; he let go of Luke, but then turned to face both Luke and Leia. “I can destroy the dragon, and I will do it myself.” 

“You _could,_ sure,” Leia said, “but I have a better solution. I know what will neutralize their armor.” 

“Neutralize their armor,” Vader echoed softly. He looked directly at Leia, and for a moment Luke was terrified that he was going to try to kill her...but he didn’t. “Astounding.” 

He was relieved. 

“Really?” Luke asked. “There’s really something that can do that?”

“Yes. Aphra’s going to get it right now--we’ll be able to put it into blasters and fire it at the dragons, especially the Alpha.” Leia frowned. “Speaking of which, I thought that thing attacked you.” 

“She did,” Vader said, still seeming none too happy that Leia was here at all. 

“Then where is she?”

Vader was silent. And now that Luke thought about it...that was suspicious. If the dragon was so intent on killing them, why hadn’t she come back?

“We don’t know,” he said. 

“That’s reassuring.” 

Despite Vader, despite the situation, despite...despite _everything,_ Luke laughed. At that there was a brief feeling of wistfulness, of sadness from the Sith Lord, but that didn’t make sense, so he ignored it. 

Leia was here. 

Leia was with him, after all. 

“Oh, Leia,” he said, “I’m glad you’re with me.” 

Vader turned away, as if he couldn’t even stand to look at anyone being happy. They both ignored him. 

“So am I,” she said, pulling him into a hug. 

  
  


Pandaki opened his eyes. 

His first thought was that it was dark. He couldn’t see anything at all; it was complete and utter darkness. 

Then, the darkness moved, and he could see clearly. 

It was a shape, he realized in horror, a shape that had been bending over him...unnatural...it was a creature…

At once, the memories returned. 

It was a dragon. It was a Canyon krayt, it was one of _his dragons..._ and he was alive. They’d attacked him--he could feel that in his leg, and all over his body, as they’d clearly dragged him back to their den--but they hadn’t killed him. 

The question was...why? 

Pandaki wanted to move, but he knew better than that. He could _hear_ them, talking amongst themselves; he could clearly see a pool of his own blood next to him, and he tried not to feel sick. These were his own creatures...his own abominations…

But he could not move. He thought he had been dead...but he was alive. Surely, he could figure a way out of this. 

The pool of blood rippled. 

The ground shook. 

Something. Something, one of the larger dragons, one of his larger creatures, was coming--

_The Alpha._

Pandaki didn’t want to look. He didn’t want to see it...but he was not going to be afraid. He’d spent too much time being afraid. 

He looked up. 

The trees shimmered, and the Alpha appeared, standing over him. 

At first she did not look at him; she looked over his shoulder, at the two Canyons krayts standing on either side of him. A rumbling noise came from her throat, a question, perhaps; and then, two responses came. 

Then her eyes shifted. Toward Pandaki. 

She looked at him, for a very long time--those eyes, those horrid, wicked eyes, those _beautiful_ eyes, stared into his. Into the eyes of her creator. 

The eyes glinted. There was no adoration there any longer. 

Pandaki could not help but wonder if she knew who he was. And if so...was she angry? Was this revenge? 

No. No, she could not be that intelligent. 

But he could never underestimate his creations. 

“Oh, my darling,” he whispered; he could still remember looking into her eyes when she was a hatchling, an innocent hatchling, his latest work of genius, looking adoringly at him. “What have you become?” 

_I should never have created you,_ he thought. 

A moment later, the Alpha made one last sound...and then her head rushed down. There was a searing pain in Pandaki’s face--in his eyes. He screamed, felt the blood rush down over his cheeks, into his mouth. 

Then, all was darkness. 

But he was still breathing. Still aware…

Yes, he realized. Yes. It was revenge. She was too intelligent; she did want to make him suffer. 

She did not like that he had caged her. 

That had been his mistake, above all. Animals should never be restricted in such a way...and especially not this mutant. She never should have existed at all--but because she did, he’d been wrong to imprison her. 

For that, she was taking her revenge on her creator. 

She had blinded him first, he thought as she moved away from his eyes, as she seized on his remaining arm and he screamed again. 

She had blinded him, so that he would have to listen to and feel himself die, so that his death would be slow...and so that he could see none of it. 

_Skywalker,_ he thought as those teeth ripped into his intestines, as he felt his vocal cords let loose another scream, _I hope you kill my monster well.  
_

For several minutes, the Alpha continued to feast, the creator continued to scream...and the entire time, the Canyon krayts only watched. 

They would have their share when the leader was finished, they knew. 

All they had to do was wait. 


	34. Resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aphra has a dilemma; Luke, Vader, and Leia do not vibe well together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little more gory description following the aftermath of Pandaki's death.

As she ran through the jungle, one constant question echoed in Aphra’s mind:  _ where is Pandaki?  _

He couldn’t be dead, she thought. He’d just spoken to her, right before she arrived at their spot; then, he had not shown up. And she supposed the dragons could have gotten him, but they were  _ his creatures.  _ He would know how to deal with them; it had been his intuition that had saved them from the Alpha the first time. 

And he had  _ just spoken to her.  _

But then, it might not be the dragons...he was already missing most of an arm...

Aphra tried not to think about it, tried not to think about the image of Pandaki alone in the jungle, bleeding out from a failed dragon attack, and she with her bag of medicines was the only one who could help him. She could not think about it. At the last minute, she’d realized that she and Leia Organa were probably going to run into Vader as well as Luke; and Vader had told her that if he ever saw her again, he’d kill her. Most likely, if Leia and Luke and everyone else spoke up for her, he wouldn’t...but she couldn’t be sure. 

And even if he  _ didn’t  _ kill her, she could not stand to be around him for another minute. In recent years she’d made herself as tough as she could get, but somehow around Vader, around the man who’d thrown her out into space, that all vanished. 

_ I’ll get the acid now,  _ she’d told Leia.  _ The facility’s right there--I know how to get in.  _

_ Are you sure?  _ Leia had asked.  _ There might still be dragons in there.  _

No, Aphra hadn’t been sure. She _still_ wasn’t sure. But it was the best way to prioritize their time, and she would rather deal with a hundred bloodthirsty dragons than Darth Vader. So off she went to get the snail acid from the most dangerous basement in the world. 

That said, she couldn’t help thinking. What had happened to Pandaki? 

She wanted to know. She  _ needed  _ to know, because what if he needed her help? 

_ The acid,  _ she told herself.  _ The acid. The dragons need to die. They need to have their armor neutralized… _

_ I promised Pandaki I’d help him.  _

Aphra continued on her path. But soon she found herself scanning the jungle floor, searching for any sign that the scientist had been here. She knew what they looked like by now; she’d spent long enough traveling with him to figure it out.

“Come on,” she muttered. “I did not stitch up your bloody arm and save your ass half a dozen times for you to disappear on me.” 

Quickly, Aphra glanced over her shoulder. No dragons, as far as she could tell; there was nothing around her in any direction. Still, she couldn’t be too sure. And it was so hard to tell in the dark…

Without warning, her foot touched something soft. 

With a yelp, Aphra jerked back--but it wasn’t a dragon. It was...it was...she couldn’t  _ tell.  _

Wary, she knelt and looked closer. 

At this angle, she could see much better, but she still couldn’t take a guess for sure. There was some sort of rag on the ground, some material...gingerly, she reached out to touch it. 

It was  _ wet.  _

But more than that, there was something more than rags there. Some...some type of object. 

When Aphra drew her fingers away, they were covered in blood. 

And those rags, she’d...she’d  _ seen them before.  _ The rags, and what was very clearly a mangled arm or leg underneath…

No, not just rags. Clothing. 

_ “I don’t have any painkillers. I’ll have to amputate it without...giving you anything.”  _

_ “Well. I suppose I deserve this anyway, for what I’ve done.”  _

No way.  _ No way.  _

Horrified, Aphra stared. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew what it meant; the facts were right in front of her. She’d cut away that sleeve herself. The mangled flesh underneath was clearly Mirialan. The material was covered with blood. Over the blood she could see dragon saliva. 

But she didn’t want to believe it. 

Pandaki was dead. 

  
  
  


Things could not have been worse. 

The situation with his son over the last three days had always been on the edge of disaster; several times, he’d almost ruined himself, and other times it had been the dragons. But after he’d been so close to taking him back to his Star Destroyer for good, so close to actually... _ connecting  _ with him, the Alpha had attacked, the ship had been knocked out of the sky, and his fury at the whole thing had caused Luke to become wary of him, to mistrust him, once again. The whole thing was precarious. 

And then, on top of  _ all of that,  _ Leia Organa had shown up. 

That was the worst thing that could possibly have happened. 

It was obvious, of course, how much Luke and Organa cared for one another. Vader had known that before, or he would not have used her to lure Luke to him on Bespin; any person remotely close to the Rebellion could have told him that. But in order to turn Luke in the limited time that he had, Vader had been  _ counting  _ on the fact that his son had no friends with him here. If Luke was alone, with no one else there, he would be less resistant to Vader’s...persuasion. Luke had Aphra, of course, but from what he had seen of them they were simply close allies; and then there was Ruya, but given her...relation to them, he would allow that. 

But  _ Organa?  _

Leia Organa was arrogant. She was opinionated. She was determined. But beyond any of that she was a force of nature, and she would probably stop at nothing to get Luke away from his father. 

And, given how close they were, Luke would listen to her. 

“All right,” she said when they had pulled back from their embrace, and she was  _ completely  _ treating Vader as if he wasn’t even there, “we need to kill that dragon. Doctor Aphra told me you were knocked out of the sky because she pursued you.” 

“That is correct,” Vader said. “But we have established this. If you are to be of  _ use  _ to us, Organa--”

The Princess spun on him. 

“Don’t  _ even  _ start,” she said scathingly. How miraculous, Vader thought, that she was even smaller than Luke, yet could stand tall and make demands of him without fear at all. “You don’t need to tell me that. I’m  _ already _ of use to you, because I know what will help us kill the dragons. So the next question is--”

“There is no next question.  _ I  _ am capable of killing the dragons  _ without  _ such implements.”

That was not exactly true, but Vader most certainly did not want to have to depend on  _ Leia Organa  _ for  _ anything.  _ If he could, he would kill her immediately; but it was obvious how Luke would react to that. 

_ Soon,  _ he thought, _ very soon, I will stop caring what my son will think if I kill his friends.  _

“Then,” Organa said, crossing her arms over her chest, “why haven’t you done that already?”

Vader had hoped she would not say that. The answer was obvious:  _ he had almost killed Luke.  _ But he could not give that answer, because it would mean admitting that he cared about Luke, and it would also mean admitting that he had a weakness, that he had lost control. And that, he could not do. 

But there was no better answer. So, to his chagrin, he was forced to say nothing. 

Organa, as he’d predicted, smirked. “It’s settled, then. We’ll wait for Aphra to come back, then go after the dragon ourselves.” 

Vader wanted desperately to find something else to object to in order to regain the high ground in the argument, but he had to admit that it would be beneficial if the dragons were able to be weakened. So he relented. 

“Very well,” he said. “And this...neutralizer...would it make me able to use my lightsaber?”

Organa’s eyes slid sideways, toward Luke--immediately, Vader was on the alert. Of course she had a plan; and it probably meant taking Luke away from him, in some form. 

As if she could feel Vader’s eyes on her, she looked back at him. 

“Yes,” she said shortly. “I don’t think an ordinary blaster would work, but Aphra has a unique one that apparently works like a grenade; with the armor neutralized, that might blow them up on the spot.” 

“Well,” Luke said, “that would be great.” 

Organa smiled. “Yes, it would.” 

Then she cleared her throat, shifting from foot to foot, and tilted her head, as if she’d just thought of something.

That could not be good. 

“You know,” she said, sounding almost...placating, and now Vader was certain she was up to something. He had never heard her sound like that ever before. “You know, this dragon could be...anywhere. And as we have our respective talents, don’t you think we should split up? Me with Luke, and--”

“No,” Vader said flatly. He should have known. “That is out of the question.”

Organa didn’t seem cowed in the least. “Why?”

How was it  _ possible  _ for her to be so  _ stubborn?  _ She and Luke were almost two of a kind. 

“Because,” Vader ground out, “it is  _ unwise  _ for us to separate.” 

“No,” Luke muttered, “you just don’t want to let me out of your sight.” 

Vader turned sharply towards him. He could not risk  _ anyone  _ discovering the nature of their relationship--not yet. Naturally, he  _ wanted  _ the entire galaxy to know, but while they were here, while Luke was not  _ officially with him,  _ he could not risk Palpatine finding out that he had found him. 

“And furthermore,” Vader went on, before Organa could grow suspicious, “perhaps we each have  _ respective talents,  _ as you put it, but the dragons, especially the Alpha, are dangerous. Why should we separate? We will only be in further danger.” 

He hated to say  _ we.  _ He knew that  _ he  _ would not be in any danger, but the droid, his son, and Organa herself would not be able to take on the Alpha without his aid. But Organa had brought this up, of course, as a way to get Luke away from him once the Alpha was dead, and he would  _ not  _ allow it. 

And at last, she seemed to accept that he was right. 

“Fine,” she said, taking a step back--at last. “We’ll go together, once Aphra returns.” 

_ Aphra. _ Curse her for her sudden usefulness. If not for that, Vader would have been able to kill her. 

But at the moment, he was not concerned with her. At the moment, the obvious threat was Leia Organa herself; almost comical, given that she barely came up to his chest, but she stood the greatest chance of taking Luke away from him. 

He would have to be aware of her, and aware of  _ Luke,  _ every moment until this was finished. 

“Once Aphra returns,” Vader said, making no effort to get out of Organa’s personal space. If she understood that there would be no undermining him, perhaps she would see sense and back down. 

Or perhaps not. She was Bail Organa’s daughter. 

As he’d expected, a tremor of fear ran through her, but she did not back down; she simply jutted her chin up, continuing to glare at him. 

“Uh, so now that that’s decided,” Luke cut in, and both Vader and the Princess turned toward him. He looked, Vader decided, distinctly uncomfortable. “Until then, what do we do?”

“Well,” Organa said briskly, marching away from Vader, “we need a plan.” 

Luke frowned. “No, we don’t. We’ll just go after the dragon, we’ll find her, use that stuff, kill her, and leave. It’s simple.” 

_ What? _ Every time Vader thought he knew everything about his son, he learned some new, alarming fact. No wonder his son had almost died multiple times; he never thought before he did anything. 

_ And who does that sound like?  _

Vader looked down; Artoo had chirped that at him. This was all becoming too much; Luke, Organa, and the droid were attacking him simultaneously, and he couldn’t say what he  _ wanted to say.  _

To the droid, he simply raised a hand in a fist. Artoo backed off. 

Then, he returned to the situation at hand. 

“I do not usually agree with  _ Rebels,”  _ Vader said, shooting a glance at Organa, whose hands curled into fists, “but she is correct. We cannot hunt this creature without strategy, and I do not  _ understand  _ how you could even  _ consider  _ running into this situation blind!” 

“But--” Luke threw up his hands. “Just  _ two minutes  _ ago, you were saying we were just going to kill the dragon!” 

“That was when I would be killing the dragon. Now it has become clear to me that I cannot do that; I must allow for the assistance of those not strong in the Force.” 

“Listen up, you overgrown trash can,” Organa sneered. “I don’t  _ need  _ the Force. I’ve gotten along pretty well without--”

“Leia,” Luke warned her. She fell silent. 

Fortunately, his son seemed to have  _ some  _ sense. However--

“Regardless,” he said, “we need a plan. When Aphra returns, we will discuss it; but we have been caught unaware too many times. And, much as I would prefer not to work with an  _ anarchist--”  _ He turned to look at Organa once again. “I will do so out of necessity. Given that you use them wisely, your talents may prove useful.” 

Organa wrinkled her nose. “Hey, I don’t want to work with you, either.” 

“You know,” Luke said, taking a step forward so that he was standing next to his friend, “by your terms, I’m  _ also  _ an anarchist. But you don’t seem to have a problem working with me.” 

Vader stared at him. Did...did he  _ seriously  _ want Organa to know the truth? He had been so reluctant to accept it--he still was reluctant--but there was no way that Vader could answer that question without giving some hint of their familial relationship. 

“I have told you why,” he said shortly, “and you know it. Be silent.” 

Unfortunately, even  _ that  _ caused Organa to look back and forth between them. This would truly be a struggle, he realized, to avoid lashing out, to avoid killing her simply for Luke’s sake--

The roar of an engine distracted him. 

He turned around--and so did Luke, and Organa--and there, to his surprise, was a descending ship. 

“Aphra,” Luke breathed in relief. 

“No,” Organa said with a frown. “I didn’t send her off in a ship. This is too soon.” 

Together, they approached the ship; Vader followed behind. He did not know who it could be, but whoever it was, he hoped he could get rid of them. This was unbearable. He hadn’t realized how accustomed he had grown to killing until he suddenly could not do it; but eventually, he would have to release his anger on someone. 

And eventually, Luke would have to understand how necessary death was. 

Luke and the Princess stopped several meters in front of the ship; there they waited, and Vader watched the jungle around them. 

_ This is not good,  _ Artoo said beside him; Vader was beginning to detest that droid’s presence.  _ They are not getting out of the ship.  _

Vader ignored him. 

Then, several seconds later, the ship’s hatch opened...and Sola Naberrie stepped out. 

_ Not again.  _ Vader felt his anger surge. He could not bear to look at her, or any of her family, for a moment longer. It brought back too many memories, too many feelings left untouched. 

But he could do nothing about it. 

After Sola, a man stepped out--her husband, presumably--and then Ruya, the bane of Vader’s existence. 

This was  _ continually  _ getting worse. 

  
  


Pandaki. Pandaki was dead, he was gone--

Aphra rubbed her hands furiously on the ground, trying to get the blood off, but she could still feel it there, could still feel Pandaki--the earth was too rough, the chirping of the birds too loud--

Pandaki was dead. 

The Alpha had gotten him. That much was obvious. The Alpha, or one of the Canyon krayts, or the Spitting krayt, or the Greater--

This was too much.  _ Too much.  _

_ He’s dead,  _ said something in her head as she stumbled backward, horrified,  _ he’s dead, he was another one you cared about, it’s your fault for not following him immediately-- _

“Not my fault,” she tried to gasp. “Not my fault. Nothing’s my fault, it’s  _ his _ fault--”

But she couldn’t make herself believe that. 

She’d already lost Jamet. She had discovered  _ that,  _ a day ago--or had it been two days?--but Pandaki was their  _ creator,  _ Pandaki should be safe--

Pandaki had been her  _ friend.  _

Her legs couldn’t hold her up, and she slumped back down to her knees. 

Right in front of Pandaki’s arm. 

He couldn’t be dead--he was not allowed to be dead--

Static. There was static in her ears, darkness in front of her eyes--dimly, she registered that she was saying  _ something,  _ screaming  _ something,  _ but she couldn’t process it. She couldn’t hear it, because all she could see was Pandaki’s arm, all she could hear was Pandaki saying he would make up for everything. 

_ You have been good to me, far better than I deserved… _

She’d cared about him, she’d tried, at least...but she never should have let him go off alone. She’d made him feel guilty--

_ My last comfort will be that I am making it up to you.  _

“Not my...not my fault,” she tried to say again; she only felt herself saying it. She was sobbing. She hadn’t done that since she was ten. “It’s not my fault, it’s not on me…”

But she knew it was. She  _ knew it.  _ This was why she stayed away from people, because they always disappointed her, because she always lost them to  _ something-- _

Because they were too good for her. 

Because she was a  _ piece of shit  _ and only deserved to be around all the other pieces of shit in the galaxy. 

_ I failed him. I promised I would protect him and I failed him anyway... _

She shouldn’t have allowed herself to care about him; that was the lesson here. The galaxy was awful and cruel, and she along with it...and this only proved that. 

Slowly, the world came back to her. It came back in a spinning vortex of terror; she was seeing that arm on the ground and feeling the blood still dripping from her fingers, she wasn’t processing it right. She couldn’t be here, she needed to get out--

She needed to leave. 

She needed to forget everything: forget the dragons, forget Luke, and  _ get off Felucia.  _ They would all die, sure, but they probably would have all died anyway. She needed to leave, to go back to her simple life of crime, of living alone except for her droids and not giving a damn what happened to anyone. 

_ I’m going to leave. I’m getting out of here. Screw everybody else.  _

Aphra stood up, dragged herself backwards, sucked in several desperate breaths through her mouth…

She took one last look at the remains of Doctor Arialus Pandaki. 

And then she ran. 

  
  


The Emperor wanted to speak with him. 

Lord Vader wasn’t here. 

This was a recipe for disaster, thought Piett grimly as he entered the comm suite, as he waited for the connection to go through. As far as he was aware, Vader had never been  _ unavailable  _ before when the Emperor wanted to speak with him; in fact, whenever Piett or someone else told him that the Emperor was waiting for him, he marched off immediately, sometimes without saying another word. Speaking to Emperor Palpatine was always an urgent matter for Lord Vader.

And now, Vader was unavailable. 

_ What should I say to him? What would Vader want me to say? _

Piett did not know the details of his lord’s relationship with the Emperor; the nature of the Force was still a mystery to him. But what he did know, and what Vader had told him  _ under pain of death,  _ was that Palpatine had failed. He had failed to establish the Empire that had been promised, because slavery had not been eradicated, crime thrived; nothing had been fixed. But Vader had not yet learned all he could from him, so until that point, Palpatine must continue to live. 

It had been shocking for Piett to hear. It was not every day that Darth Vader spoke of treason against the  _ Emperor of the galaxy.  _ But he had merely soaked it in, accepted it--because ultimately he was loyal to the Empire, and to Darth Vader. Not to Emperor Palpatine. 

The other thing that Vader had told him was the purpose of the Rebel he had been hunting, Luke Skywalker: he was meant to help Vader destroy the Emperor. This had been difficult for Piett to take, as Skywalker had destroyed the Death Star; but he had accepted that as well. He knew there was another piece to it, something he did not understand...and something he did not exactly  _ want  _ to understand, because on Felucia, Vader had seemed almost...protective of Skywalker. 

All he knew was that the boy would be useful to them, and that he was not to be killed. 

So, he decided, Vader would absolutely not want Palpatine to hear that he had found him. 

_ But how am I supposed to lie to my Emperor?  _

He couldn’t think about it. He’d just have to do it. 

The holoprojector flickered, and Piett forced himself to remain calm-- _ a disturbance on the ground,  _ he told himself,  _ Rebels in the hospital, Lord Vader was tracking rumors of Rebels… _

Then Emperor Palpatine appeared before him, and Piett bowed his head. 

“My Emperor,” he said. “My apologies. But Lord Vader is not available at the present time.” 

  
  


The jungle passed by in a whirlwind, trees and plants and flowers and birds and who knew what else--Aphra barely noticed it. She hadn’t felt like this in years, and it brought back memories: being twenty-five and suffocating in space, feeling the empty particles close her throat and floating, floating forever in the darkness with no one to help her. Twenty, encountering a scientist who was about to use mind-controlling parasites on her. Fourteen, screaming at her father as she burned his life’s work for revenge. Twelve, finding her mother dead in a ditch--

_ You run from everything! You left us all those years ago, and she’s dead because of you!  _

Running. Running, running, running; she wasn’t aware of anything. She just knew she was getting close to where she’d left her ship--

_ You have been good to me.  _

She had to get away, she had to forget she’d ever come here--

_ I am making it up to you.  _

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t  _ breathe, dammit-- _

But she kept running. 

_ You run from everything.  _

No. No, no, no, that wasn’t  _ fair,  _ she was  _ not  _ like her father. She wasn’t obsessed the way he had been; all she did was help herself. Was that so bad? 

It wasn’t. And until now, she’d been pretty good at it. 

_ Run, run, run-- _ the word was punctuated by each stride, by every time her foot hit the dirt. Yes. Yes, she was running. She couldn’t stay here, she had to go--

There was a flash of something, movement behind her. She ran faster. 

For the first time she didn’t  _ care  _ about the dragons, didn’t care about anything--nothing but herself. She couldn’t care about anyone besides herself, that was how it had  _ always been-- _

_ Listen, Ruya went all the way into the jungle to find me. Sola saved me from the dragons. Surely you understand that! Even if you don’t care about them...you have to understand… _

Aphra stopped dead. 

Luke hadn’t said that to her, but…

No. No, he was wrong. It was worthless,  _ absolutely worthless  _ to care about other people, and it was going to get him killed. 

Luke Skywalker was going to die, and she was not going to be there to see it. 

Aphra took a step forward. What was wrong with her? She needed to keep going. She was almost there, but there were dragons here, and--

_ We have to save them.  _

She walked faster. 

_ They did us a favor. Now we have to help them back.  _

She stopped. Again. Put her hand on the tree to steady herself.

She wasn’t leaving.

It was ridiculous. Stupid. Luke was going to die, they were all going to die; well, not Darth Vader. Or maybe even Vader, these dragons were stronger and more intelligent than anything she’d met in recent years--they were all going to die. Sola, the woman she’d bonded with over a bottle of wine, was going to die. The kid--Ruya--she was going to die. Sola’s husband was going to die. The droid was going to die. The Princess who’d just shown up was going to die--

Luke was going to die, and she already  _ cared too much  _ about him. 

She couldn’t stay. She’d made the mistake of coming here, of getting involved, and she could not stay, couldn’t watch another person die--

_ Then die with him.  _

She didn’t know where the thought had come from. She had no idea. But now she couldn’t get it out of her head--

“Shut up,” she snapped, and she was aware how insane she must look--she was alone, in the jungle, talking to herself. “Shut UP!” 

But the voice wouldn’t shut up, because she knew it, deep down; and she couldn’t deny it. She cared about Luke Skywalker, damn the consequences, and she was not about to see the stupid kid die. 

That annoying voice, that little asshole of a whisper, had gotten louder. 

This time, she wasn’t about to throw a tantrum; she was starting to think clearly. Well, not clearly--she could still see that arm, she could still imagine how horrible it must have been for Pandaki, there was still blood on her fingers. She was still panicking. But there was one clear, cohesive thought in her brain. 

_ I can’t let Luke die. _

He was going to fight until the dragons killed him. So, if she couldn’t beat them...she could at least try. 

And she’d rather die at his side than hear about it later. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Aphra dragged herself up. Turned around, stood on her feet, wiped her face with the back of her hand. There was blood on her face now--it was still wet on her fingers--but she didn’t care. 

She might be a bitchy, self-serving asshole, but at least she was a  _ determined  _ bitchy, self-serving asshole. 

And for once, she was going to turn that determination to something worth it. 

“This is for you, Pandaki,” she growled, and marched off toward the facility. 

  
  


“Luke,” Sola gasped; she looked relieved. She must have been searching for him, Luke realized. “You’re all right.”

“Yeah, I’m all right,” he said, frowning as she examined him. “Trust me.” 

“Your leg is bleeding,” she remarked. 

Oh, that. 

Luke almost didn’t want to see what it looked like; he’d gotten so used to his leg hurting that he could almost ignore it, but he knew he should take a look. He lowered his head. 

It was dark, but even with that he could see that he’d bled through the bandages. 

“Oh,” he said. He couldn’t really think of much else to say; he supposed he wasn’t  _ surprised,  _ after everything. 

“Luke!” Organa dropped to her knees. “Aphra told me you’d been injured, but when I saw you standing--I didn’t think--”

“You were supposed to change the bandages,” Sola told him sternly. 

“Yeah…yeah, I--” Luke spread his arms in a helpless gesture. Didn’t she understand that he’d had a lot of things going on since the hospital? Ever since Doctor Alvi--

He swallowed. Even thinking of Alvi made him want to be sick. So many people had died…

“I understand,” Sola said with a sigh. “It’s all right.” 

Luke nodded slowly, trying to shake it off. This was stupid, it had already been hours since it happened, and in the wake of...everything...he’d forgotten about it for a while. It shouldn’t be affecting him like this. 

“To be honest, I’ve gotten used to it,” he said, shifting his weight to his left leg. “It’s nothing.” 

“It is not  _ nothing,”  _ rumbled the voice from hell at his back, and Luke jumped; he’d almost forgotten Vader was right behind him. He would have spun around, except that now that he was  _ thinking  _ about it, his leg throbbed with pain every second, and he did not want to fall over. 

Slowly, the Sith Lord circled around to stand in front of him; the others were edged back to make room for him. Sola shot him a glare, but he ignored her. 

“Stop being dramatic,” Luke said, once his heart had started beating again. “I’m  _ fine.”  _

“You are  _ not,”  _ Vader snapped, coming closer, and Luke couldn’t move backward, so he was forced to crane his neck to look up at him. “You need to sit down.” 

_ Then why,  _ Luke wanted to ask,  _ did you make me walk all that way?  _

But the answer was obvious. Vader had been so hellbent on killing the Alpha that everything else had completely slipped his mind. 

“I don’t need to sit down,” Luke protested, holding onto the tree to his left to keep himself steady. He actually wouldn’t have minded the opportunity to sit, but he didn’t want to do that while  _ everyone else  _ was standing. “I’m fine.” 

“Luke,” Leia said, “usually I don’t agree with him, but he’s right. You need--”

“I’m not sitting down,” Luke snapped. Why couldn’t they go back to arguing? 

His train of thought was interrupted as Vader, once again, laid a heavy hand on his shoulder; but this time it wasn’t for the purpose of talking to him. 

“Sit  _ down,”  _ Vader said, his voice low. 

Luke tried to shake the hand off his shoulder, to no avail. “You do  _ not  _ get to tell me what to--”

_ “Sit down!”  _

Without warning, Vader pressed down on Luke’s shoulder with such force that his leg buckled, and he collapsed in a heap. 

Mortified and furious, Luke pulled himself into a sitting position and glared. 

“You will not be moving,” Vader ordered him. “And you  _ will  _ ensure that the leg is not infected.” 

Without another word, he stalked back to the Naberries. 

There was a soft thump, and Leia sat down beside him.

“Well,” she said. “That was…”

“Overdramatic?” Luke finished. 

Leia actually laughed. 

“Yes,” she said, “that too. But really, he was...surprisingly, he was right. I didn’t expect him to even be concerned about you at  _ all,  _ and I want to  _ kill him,  _ but you did need to sit down. I’m worried about you.” She looked down, and Luke realized she was looking at his leg. “Can I...?”

Luke sighed. He supposed he needed to look at it, after all. 

“Sure,” he said. 

Carefully,  _ very  _ carefully, he started to roll up his trouser leg--and shouted. At that slight touch, pain had  _ lanced  _ through him; and for a brief moment, the world went red. 

_ “Luke!”  _ He heard it out loud,  _ and _ in his head; because Leia was right there, but Vader had also spoken it,  _ very loudly,  _ in his mind. 

His vision cleared. Fortunately, Vader hadn’t come over, but Luke could feel his presence hovering; and Leia was kneeling directly in front of him. 

“I’m--I’m okay,” he gasped as the pain faded. 

“You are not,” Leia snapped. “Obviously, the wound is so bad that you can’t even touch your  _ leg  _ without feeling anything. How the hell have you been walking around?”

“Practice,” he got out. 

She raised her eyebrows. “Sure. Now…” She sighed. “Listen, I...I’ll just roll the trouser leg up for you. Very gently.” 

Luke swallowed. Trying to roll it up himself had been hard enough; but he didn’t really want anyone else touching it, she wouldn’t be able to know if he was in pain unless he said something...

But then, he thought as Vader turned back to look at him, he’d rather Leia do it than...anyone else. 

_ That’s ridiculous. He wouldn’t even consider doing that.  _

In the background, the Naberries were discussing  _ something  _ with Vader; Luke didn’t bother to try and overhear them. At least Vader was distracted. 

“Okay,” he said. “Just...be gentle.” 

Leia frowned. “Of course, Luke.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not a doctor, but here goes nothing.” 

Slowly, she reached for Luke’s trouser leg and slid her fingers under it. At her touch, pain immediately shot through him again; but this time it was not as terrible, and he had expected it.

“There,” she said. “Is that okay?”

Luke bit his lip and nodded. 

Slowly, Leia started to slide it up, over his calf, inch by inch. It wasn’t  _ awful  _ yet, there was constant pain but otherwise--

Leia reached the wound. Luke saw red. 

The Naberries--and Vader--spun at the sound of his shout. 

“What happened?” Sola demanded. “Is your leg all right? Is it infected?”

“We...don’t know,” Leia said as Luke regained his breath. “But I’d assume it is; he’s in pain every time I touch it.” 

Sola pursed her lips. “Bacta patches won’t heal that.” 

“No,” Luke said between clenched teeth; he was  _ not  _ going to deal with Vader slinging him over his shoulder again. “But they’ll  _ help.”  _ He shook his head. “Keep talking, I’m fine.” 

Reluctantly, Sola turned back...and so did Vader. But the presence never left him. 

_ You care?  _ he thought at him. 

_ I...need you to walk,  _ came the response, which sounded decidedly stiff.  _ We cannot defeat the dragon without you, son.  _

Luke didn’t know what to make of that. On one hand, that was the coldest response he could have received--aside, he supposed, from  _ no, I don’t care-- _ and there was no inclination that Vader cared about Luke  _ himself.  _

But then there was that word again,  _ son,  _ and even though it was said by Vader, even though it was said without the slightest hint of warmth...it fulfilled some deep longing he’d had all his life. Part of him hated it; and part of him wanted to hear it again. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts by another sharp stab of pain. He let out a yelp. 

“I’m done,” Leia said. “It’s all the way up.” She sighed. “But you’re not going to want to see this.” 

Luke looked anyway. 

The bacta patch was still covering the wound, but there was a dark, red stain in it; and the area surrounding the wound was red. 

Luke waved a hand over it, careful not to touch the wound itself. It felt hot. 

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “It’s definitely infected.” 

_ Will you be able to walk?  _ Vader’s demand came suddenly, and Luke almost flinched. 

_ Yes,  _ Luke thought back.  _ We have bacta patches.  _

There was something of a  _ harrumph  _ from Vader, but the dark presence retracted. Luke breathed a little easier. 

“All right,” Leia said. “I’ll just change this out for a different one. Where are the others?”

“Right here,” Luke said, producing the bag from his jacket. 

He couldn’t stop looking at the wound. This did not bode well for him, or for anyone else. He’d have to help. 

“Just sit tight,” Leia said. “I have to get this ready.” 

Luke’s comlink rang. 

He hadn’t been expecting that--and he’d actually forgotten he even  _ had  _ a comlink. Quickly, he pulled it out and answered. 

“Hello?” he said uncertainly. 

“Luke,” came a female voice from the other end: Aphra. For some reason, she sounded strange. “I have bad news.” 

Immediately, Leia was listening--and so were Vader and the Naberries, and even Artoo. 

“Everyone’s hearing you,” Luke warned her. “What is it?”

“Well, uh…” Suddenly, Aphra sounded more composed. “Pandaki’s dead.” 

Luke blinked. Pandaki. He’d forgotten about the doctor, with everything that had happened, but suddenly he remembered that he was supposed to pick them up. 

And he never had. 

“He’s…” Luke shook his head.  _ “Dead?” _

“He went looking for the Canyon krayts,” Aphra said, her voice sounding thick--she was crying. Or she’d been crying. Luke’s heart went out to her. “They’re...well, Leia can tell you more, but they’re working with the Alpha.” 

“We know,” Luke said. “Artoo saw one of them.” 

“Oh--okay.” There was a moment of silence. Then: “The Alpha got him, I think.” 

Aphra must have gotten to know him well, Luke realized. She hadn’t expected this. 

And suddenly, he realized that  _ he  _ was sad. He’d liked the doctor. He’d trusted him, tried to keep him safe from Vader--and now he was  _ dead anyway.  _

How many more? How many more people were going to die? 

That Alpha had to be destroyed. 

“That’s what I figured,” he said. “Where are you?”

  
  


“I’m at the facility,” Aphra said. She was; she was standing outside the hole in the ground, the very spot where all of this had started. She could still remember the Greater krayt tearing Dravos in half. “I’ve got my weapon, and I’m about to go in for the snail acid. Stay right where you are, unless the dragons come; I’ll keep you posted.”

“Aphra,” Luke started to say, but she could hear the emotion in his voice; she needed to cut the call. 

She wasn’t quick enough. 

“It’s not your fault,” Luke got out, before she managed to hang up. 

Then she stood, in the darkness, fresh tears on her face. 

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she whispered. “It  _ is  _ my fault.” She prepped the fireblaster, the only weapon she could use until she had the snail acid. “That’s why I’m going to make up for it.” 

Then, without so much as a glance over her shoulder, she jumped down the hole into the ruined laboratory. 


	35. Aphra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Generally, there is a lot of stress.

Firmus Piett had only seen Emperor Palpatine a grand total of four times. Once when the Emperor had come to the _Executor_ himself, in the days when he was still a captain; and three more times when he had been broadcast giving a speech. But none of those times had been _up close--_ none of those times had been sufficient to warn Piett how _absolutely horrifying_ the almighty Emperor of the galaxy looked. Particularly his eyes. They seemed sunken into his skin, which hung like folds off his bones; but simultaneously they seemed to stand out, taking in everything with a sharp, all-knowing gaze. 

Nothing could escape him, Piett knew, absolutely nothing. 

And yet, he had to lie. 

“Lord Vader, unavailable?” Palpatine echoed, sounding gentle, like a concerned grandfather; but Piett was no fool. He could _see_ the repressed anger behind his eyes. “That is most unusual for him.”

“I…” Piett had to force himself to speak. He had never spoken to his Emperor before, and the experience was terrifying in the extreme. “I agree.”

Palpatine studied him for a moment, head tilted to the side; Piett almost wished that he was on the ground facing the krayt dragons again. At least he could run from them. He would have preferred those flashing teeth and sharp claws to this singular, cold regard that felt all too much like the stare of a predator. 

“You are his Admiral, I presume,” Palpatine said at last, and Piett nodded shortly. “Do you know, then, where he is?”

_You serve the Empire, first and foremost. The Empire before anything...Lord Vader, before anyone…_

Piett took a deep breath. 

“He is on the planet Felucia,” he said, and somehow managed to keep his voice from shaking. “He has been there for the last three days.” 

“Really. Do you know why?”

Piett swallowed. 

“There is...a hospital here,” he said, and this time his voice did shake slightly. “Several Rebels appeared, bringing with them injured troops, and they...they planned to use this place in the future. Lord Vader wants to take the opportunity to capture them and gather what information he can.” 

Something flashed in Palpatine’s eyes. 

Recognition. 

Understanding. 

Piett went cold. 

“I see,” Palpatine said softly. “Tell me something, Admiral. Are there any...important Rebels on the planet?”

Piett swallowed again. He knew. He was thinking about Skywalker--he suspected that Vader was there because of him. 

But he would still have to lie. 

So he made himself look into Palpatine’s disgusting, all-seeing eyes; that way, he might not suspect that Piett was lying. 

“No,” he said. “There are not.” 

The Emperor’s eyes narrowed. Piett held his breath. He could not believe what he was doing; he had never dreamed that he would ever directly lie to the Emperor of the entire galaxy, but he had also heard Darth Vader demand, right to his face, that no one interfere in what he was doing on Felucia. And, given what Vader had told him before, that included the Emperor. 

And ultimately his loyalty was to Vader and the Empire. Not its Emperor. 

He was also pretty sure that he would not be doing this if he’d gone without sleep for twenty-eight hours, but that was a minor matter. 

“I see,” Palpatine said again, sounding slightly disappointed; but again, Piett could see the anger behind his eyes. “Then, I have a message for you, Admiral…” 

“Piett,” Piett answered him. 

“Piett,” Palpatine echoed, his expression softened; Piett suppressed a shudder. “Kindly tell Lord Vader that in three days’ time, I must speak with him. There is an urgent matter I would like to discuss.” 

Three days. Surely, _surely_ the dragons would be dead by then. 

“Of course, Your Majesty,” he said, bowing his head. Thank the universe this conversation was nearly over. “It will be done.”

“Naturally,” Palpatine said lightly. “It would be unfortunate if you were to fail again.” 

Before Piett could even _begin_ to digest that, the hologram vanished. 

  
  


Going back into the facility almost gave Aphra flashbacks. As she grew used to the darkness, as she looked around her, she was struck by _visceral_ memories: memories of the building shaking, seeing a literal Greater krayt standing above Luke and Pandaki, running back through the facility as the ground shook behind her--of Pandaki’s arm--

Pandaki. 

She never should have saved him, never should have bothered carrying him back, because _clearly_ it had been _worthless--_

“Enough,” she whispered into the darkness. “I’m done running. I’m doing this for Pandaki, and for everyone else, and if I die doing it, then that’s how it is.” 

So she took a step forward; it echoed through the entire facility. 

“Well, that’s great,” she muttered. Quickly, she looked over her shoulder; nothing behind her. “Gotta love that.” 

But there was nothing for it. She’d spent her whole life running. 

_No more,_ she thought to herself. _No more._

Maybe she was afraid. But that didn’t mean anything. She had to get the acid. 

She’d stay afraid, but she would do the job anyway. 

So she took another step, ignoring the way it echoed; and then she took another, and another, and another, until she was walking down the center of the corridor. She was standing up straight, she held her fire blaster in hand, and there might be dragons behind her; but she didn’t care. 

  
  


At last Leia had finished bandaging Luke’s leg, as much as she could. The bacta patches wouldn’t cut through the infection, obviously, and what he _really_ needed was forty-eight hours in a bacta tank and another week of sleep; but for now he was as good as he was going to get, so she stood up and went to talk to the Naberries. She didn’t like leaving him there on the ground, not with Vader around; she trusted the Sith Lord about as far as she could kick him. But she knew Sola, and she needed to see what she thought of the whole situation. 

“Leia.” Sola greeted her with a warm smile. “I had no idea you were going to be here, but honestly...it’s good to see you.”

Leia shot a glare over her shoulder, to where she knew Vader was standing. She wanted him to know that she hadn’t stopped watching Luke, and whatever he did or said, she’d know about it. 

“Well,” she said, turning back to Sola, “I wish it was under better circumstances.”

“Maybe this isn’t the best time,” Sola’s husband remarked. 

“Maybe not.” Leia sighed. “Aphra told me a few things, but I’m surprised you’re even here. I mean, this is essentially a _war zone._ The Empire’s here, we’ve brought our own soldiers--which I regret, believe me--there are actual dragons…”

“I know, I know,” Sola laughed. “It’s...we’re still trying to process it, I think. But we’re here because…” She trailed off, looking suddenly sad. “My mother had a heart problem for years; eventually she developed pneumonia on top of that and we brought her here.”

Leia had to think for a moment; who was Sola’s mother? She knew that Sola’s _sister_ had been Padme Amidala, a figure Leia greatly revered, but as for her mother…

Jobal Naberrie. That was it. Jobal had pushed for the abolition of slavery in the Outer Rim planets when she was young; it was only natural that her daughter had become such a defender of justice. 

_Had,_ Sola had said. 

“She’s dead, isn’t she,” Leia said softly. She didn’t know Sola too well, but when she didn’t get a response, she took the older woman’s hands in hers. “I’m so sorry. I never knew your mother personally, but I admired her so much.”

Sola looked down for a moment, then back up. Leia wondered if she was trying to avoid crying. 

“Thank you,” she said at last. “And I’m doing all right, really. But, ah…” She sighed. “Yes. That’s why we were here. We got caught in the middle of this.” 

“Also, I ran away,” chirped a voice from the ground. 

Leia looked down. There was a little girl sitting there; Sola’s daughter, she realized. She looked exactly like her mother. 

“Well...hello,” Leia said, feeling slightly awkward. “What are you doing down there?”

“I’m tired,” the girl said with a frown.

“That’s understandable.” Suddenly, it struck Leia what she had said. “Wait. You ran away? _Here?”_

Sola’s daughter grinned. “Yep.” 

“Ruya,” Sola snapped, “that is _not anything_ to be proud of. There are dragons all over, you could have been killed, you’ve _already_ been injured--”

“Sorry,” Ruya said, in a way that suggested she was not at all sorry. 

“So, yes,” Sola said through clenched teeth, turning back to Leia, “we did not at all expect to get into this situation.” She took a deep breath. “But we’re not leaving until those dragons are dead. And your friend, Luke…” 

Sola peered over Leia’s shoulder. Leia turned around. Luke was sitting with his back against a tree, staring up at the sky as if he was trying to ignore the fact that Darth Vader was standing about two feet from him. 

But Vader was clearly staring right at them. 

Suddenly, Leia understood. She didn’t understand _all_ of it--clearly, this was connected to the thing that Luke hadn’t told her, and Sola knew about it, and everyone but her knew about it...but what she could understand was that Sola wanted the same thing as she did. 

She wanted to get Luke the hell away from Vader. 

Quickly, she turned back to Sola. 

“I get it,” she said. “Of course.” 

There was an uncomfortable silence. Leia was almost _sure_ that Vader was listening in, and she wished she didn’t have to pretend that none of them knew it. She wished she could turn around and tell him…

Well. Why not? 

Leia spun around, ignoring Sola’s gasp, and almost bumped right into the Dark Lord; he was much closer than she’d thought. 

She shook it off. 

“Yeah,” she said, and even with the mask he actually looked _surprised,_ “you’ve probably read all our thoughts by now so I’m going to tell you anyway. We’ll compromise for now but ultimately all we want is to get _Luke_ away from _you.”_

“That is no secret,” Vader growled--of course he knew that already. Leia had probably blown it by trying to split them up, but she didn’t really care. “However, you will not be succeeding. Skywalker will not be leaving with anyone but me.” 

“Oh,” Luke said from his position on the ground, “so I’m your prisoner?”

An odd question to ask. Leia would have thought that was obvious, but--

 _“Yes,”_ Vader snarled at him, almost...angrily. “And I thought you had _agreed_ to leave with me.” 

He had _what?_ Leia hadn’t been expecting that--but now that she thought about it, she remembered that when she’d run into them, Luke hadn’t exactly been restrained. He’d been walking free…

But why would he agree to go with Vader willingly? The idea was terrible, horrifying--

Abruptly, Leia looked at Luke. He was looking at her with something like panic in his eyes. Something tugged at her heart; and simultaneously, she understood something. 

Luke _didn’t_ want to go with Vader. Of course he didn’t. 

_Then why,_ she thought--

Luke shook his head. 

It took everything Leia had not to grin. He was _pretending,_ of course. He was trying to fake Vader out, make him _think_ he had agreed to go with him, so that the Sith Lord wouldn’t expect it when Luke made his escape. 

She didn’t know how Luke had arrived at this point, but she had to trust him. She had to play along. 

“Sure,” she muttered, trying to sound disheartened. “That’s great. On top of everything that’s happened--” 

She shook her head, as if trying to forget what she’d just heard; and fortunately, Vader seemed to buy it. He stared at her for another second, as if weighing her words on his mind, and then _finally_ took a step back, out of her personal space. 

“Anyway,” said Sola’s husband--Amil, she remembered. “We’re waiting for Aphra to return, but we still need an idea of what happens next. What’s our move?”

“I know one thing,” Luke said. He looked slightly awkward, being down on the ground like that, and Leia felt for him; but she was _not_ going to let him stand up. “We can’t wait until the Alpha comes for us again. We have to do something before then.” 

“I agree,” Vader said. 

Leia shivered. It was only _two words,_ and they were _completely_ normal, but how did he manage to make everything he said sound so _ominous?_

For a moment, everyone was silent. Either they all agreed, or they didn’t know what to say, or Vader was so terrifying that any of his _statements_ stole the words from everybody else. Probably all three. 

“All right,” Sola said at last. “Then we need to split up.” 

The temperature dropped. 

This wouldn’t be good. Remembering what had happened before--

Luke closed his eyes, probably trying to brace for what would come next. Taking the signal, Leia took several steps back. 

Just in time. Vader marched forward, so he was right in Sola’s face.

Sola, interestingly, didn’t budge. 

“We will _not_ be separating,” Vader snarled in the most threatening tone Leia had ever heard from him...which was saying a lot. “That is utterly unwise. This dragon is...a _dangerous_ adversary. I would have preferred to destroy her alone, but that is _impossible,_ and as it is we must not separate, or we will not be able to succeed.” 

Vader, Leia realized, sounded distinctly... _irritated_ that he could not kill the dragon all by himself. She hid her smile behind her hand. 

“We can still kill the Alpha if we split up,” Sola snapped. “It might work out better if we do that, so that there aren’t more than half a dozen people walking through the jungle!” 

“Maybe we should keep it quiet,” Ruya said. No one listened to her. 

“If we intend to kill the dragon,” Vader growled, “you will have to arrive at your _position_ on time, and I will not fail to leave this planet simply because you had the audacity to be killed.” 

There were _so_ many things wrong with that statement, Leia didn’t even know where to start. She glanced at Luke; he shot her a helpless look. 

“We will not be killed,” Sola said coolly. “And if you fear for that, why don’t you send Luke with us? He can make sure we--”

Leia winced. She knew what was coming. 

“That is _out of the question,”_ Vader hissed. “We will not be separating. We will develop a plan when Aphra returns. For the moment, I will _refrain_ from killing you, because you will be of assistance to me; and just so that _you all understand--”_ Without warning, he wheeled to face Leia, and she had to force herself not to flinch. “No matter what happens, SKYWALKER stays with ME.” 

Then, without another word, he turned, so fast that his cape whipped at Leia’s legs, and stalked away toward Luke. 

_Poor Luke,_ Leia thought, watching her friend look at the Sith Lord with alarm in his eyes. In that moment she wanted _nothing more_ to get him _away_ from that man--’man’ being a loose term--but it was clear that trying to do that, at the moment, would only make things worse. 

_I_ will _get him away from you,_ she fumed at Vader’s retreating back. _You won’t get to touch him or use his power or do anything with him ever again. He’s a person, and he’s my friend, and I’ll get him away from you the first opportunity I have. Just you wait._

There was a soft beep from the ground; Leia looked down. 

R2-D2 was standing there, looking imploringly up at her. 

_I’ve missed you,_ he said. 

“Hi, Artoo,” Leia said, forcing a smile. She knelt down at his side; but the whole time, she was aware of where Vader was, and what was happening with Luke. “Hey, I’m sorry, we’ve had things going on, but…” 

Impulsively, she reached forward and hugged the little droid. After everything that had just happened, it was calming. 

Artoo chirped happily and waddled back and forth. It was, she supposed, the closest he could come to hugging her back. 

“It’s nice to see you,” she said, her smile real this time. 

  
  
  


There was something behind her. 

It had been there for a while. 

The thought crossed Aphra’s mind as she walked along the lower level, searching incessantly for that durasteel container of snail acid, and she tried not to panic. She’d known there would be dragons in here. She’d gone in here knowing that; and that was why she’d come prepared to deal with them. 

But why, she thought, _why_ couldn’t this one have waited until _after_ she had the acid? 

It was unfair. And also terrifying. 

_Think,_ she told herself, told her mind that was already starting to freak out, _think. You’re still alive. You’re still breathing._

_What do you know?_

There was a dragon behind her. A dragon was following her. But...

But, she reasoned, it hadn’t attacked yet. It had been following her for at least five minutes--not immediately behind her, but somewhere there, as she could hear--but had not attacked. 

She wondered if it was because she hadn’t turned around. That it was hunting her, stalking her like prey...but that so far, it thought she was gullible. 

And, the second she turned around, its cover would be blown. It would attack. 

So far, she was still alive. 

_Then I’m going to keep myself that way._ Aphra steeled herself. _I’m not afraid. Not afraid. I’m doing this for Pandaki, and for Luke._

Again came the soft _click-clack_ on the floor. Aphra twitched, almost flinched, and had to resist every impulse to at least look over her shoulder--and then to start firing on the thing until it died. 

But she could only kill it with the snail acid. And she didn’t have that. 

Yet. 

_It’s at the far end of the hall,_ Leia had told her. _In a storage closet. It will be in a durasteel bin, in cylinders; nothing but that could hold the acid. Keep walking until you see it._

And Aphra hadn’t reached the end yet. 

So, with the dragon behind her, unable to look and see where exactly it was, she kept on walking. 

  
  


_“Luke! Help!”_

_Pain in his leg...pain everywhere…_

_A roar behind him--a red lightsaber in front, ready to strike him down--_

_“LUKE!”_

Luke opened his eyes with a gasp...and groaned. Another one. He’d had another version of that _awful_ vision, that stupid vision he couldn’t make sense of. It hadn’t been as long, or as detailed this time; so there was a possibility it was simply a nightmare this time. But all the same...he’d had it repeatedly. It meant _something._

And he _couldn’t figure it out._

He’d tried. He had tried so hard to figure it out, had thought over everything, but it didn’t make sense. Was Vader going to kill him, despite being his father? Or were the dragons going to be the ones to strike him down? Was Ruya going to die? And was Leia also in danger? He saw different things each time, different versions, but the common theme was always that he was too late to save someone, he was in that corridor in the facility...and at the end, he saw Vader’s lightsaber looming over him, crossed with his own blade that he’d lost on Bespin. 

_What did it mean?_

He didn’t know. And obviously he wouldn’t be able to figure it out. 

Luke rubbed his eyes and looked around. Leia and the Naberries were lying down, sleeping. Leia was across from him, curled up against a tree; he was surprised that she wasn’t next to him, but maybe she’d been speaking to Sola more. 

As for the time, it was still dark out; Luke didn’t think that much time had passed. He didn’t even remember falling asleep, but he understood why it happened, because he was _tired._ He was exhausted to the bone, he had probably only slept for an hour or two, he wanted nothing more than to sleep...but it was clear that when he slept, he would see the vision. 

So he was not going back to sleep. 

Across the clearing, Luke saw Leia staring at him, a question in her eyes; of course, he realized, of course she wasn’t really asleep. She wasn’t going to sleep with Vader around--she was probably still suspicious. 

Speaking of which, where _was_ Vader? Luke couldn’t see him anywhere. 

The thought was unnerving. He doubted that the Sith Lord would have just left them--he was so concerned about making sure Luke _didn’t escape,_ damn him--but then, Luke couldn’t _see_ him anywhere. Yes, it was dark, and yes, Vader had an uncanny ability to _disappear_ into the environment when he wanted to, but Luke was scanning the trees all around him, and he couldn’t--

_Luke._

It was inside his head. Luke flinched; and then he realized that Vader was _right there,_ in the Force, and he should have listened to what his senses were telling him. 

Vader was about five feet away, standing over him like...like a _guard._

No wonder Leia was lying so far away from him, as well as the Naberries. Vader probably hadn’t let them come any closer. 

Luke scowled. He wished Vader would just _back off,_ instead of being so determined to keep him from escaping. And he knew he wasn’t going to try it any time soon, at least not before they killed the Alpha...but after that...even with Leia there, Vader was going to make it damn near impossible for Luke to get away. 

_Luke,_ came Vader’s voice again, softer this time. 

Luke closed his eyes. He wished Vader would leave him _alone._

_What?_ he thought back, making no effort to keep the irritation out of his...mind-voice. 

_I can tell that you are...anxious,_ came the reply. _You have been seeing visions._

Of course, Luke thought through gritted teeth, of course Vader wanted to know what he’d been _dreaming_ about. Of course he knew that Luke saw visions, because he’d used that against him before--

 _It’s none of your concern,_ he snapped. 

_Oh?_ Vader was so demanding all the time, he loved to order everyone around, terrify them...but Luke decided he actually preferred that over this soft questioning. Vader almost sounded amused, and that was patronizing in a way that Luke did not like. _I seem to recall that_ I _was in your vision. That would appear to make it my concern._

Luke froze. 

Had Vader...he had really…

He’d seen the vision. 

And if he’d done that, then what _else_ had he seen? Had he gone in and picked through every desire, every private thought that would be useful to him? 

Did he know Luke intended to try and escape? 

Was _nothing safe?_

 _You went into my mind,_ Luke thought back, and--and he was starting to shake, he realized, the idea of Vader inside his head, while he was sleeping, completely unaware, was absolutely terrifying. _You_ cannot _do that! You went in and saw what I was thinking--_

 _You were distressed,_ Vader replied, and he actually had the gall to sound...surprised, as if Luke being _upset_ about that was so unexpected. _I thought I would discover the origin of this--_

 _No!_ Luke wished he couldn’t just say this in his head. He wished, for once, that it was only the two of them again, so that he could shout and scream at Vader all he wanted. _You don’t get to do that. Those are_ my _thoughts,_ my _dreams, that is_ private, _and you just went in and spied on me without a second thought!_

Luke stopped and stared straight ahead, looking anywhere but at Vader. This was why he’d been so determined to get away, this was what he’d temporarily forgotten in his quest to know more about his mother; was this what it was going to be like? Day in and day out, his father knowing everything he was thinking, taking his thoughts without remorse--

_I saw nothing else._

Luke whipped back to look at Vader. The helmet was tilted down toward him. 

_What?_

_Obviously you think that I have read all your thoughts, and nothing is secret. I would not blame you; I have done that to others before. But only by necessity. I need nothing from you yet._

Luke looked over at Leia; her eyes were closed again. 

Then he looked back at Vader. 

_Yet,_ he thought. _So you’re saying you might do that._

 _If I were given reason,_ Vader replied, his tone light. _But I have not needed that. And I did not do it now. I only wished to see your vision; and even that I witnessed only for several seconds._

Luke began to breathe a little easier. Vader had only seen the vision, nothing else; and though it wasn’t totally reassuring, since he’d essentially said that he had no qualms about doing that “when he was given reason,” whatever that meant, he hadn’t done it today. Luke was safe. 

And, Luke realized, Vader had told him because…

Because he cared? 

Because he had learned that it bothered Luke to have his mind read? 

He didn’t know. But it was a possibility…

_How long have you been having these visions?_

Luke took a deep breath. He could continue to withhold that information from Vader; the man had just told him he wouldn’t read his mind without reason. 

_A few days,_ Luke told him stiffly. _They’re...they’re about something that’s going to happen here. On this planet._

He didn’t know why he’d said that. Vader had made it clear, after all, that he was not the kind of father one could expect to _confide_ in. 

_I see,_ Vader replied, surprising Luke entirely. _And has it come to pass?_

Luke waited, once again debating whether he should tell him. Then again, he supposed, this was...the calmest conversation they had ever had. Of course, it had only been for the last thirty seconds, but still. There was hope. 

He should probably stop hoping. 

But for the first time since Bespin, talking to his _father--_ he still wanted to shudder at the term--was not stressful or terrifying in the least. 

_No,_ he thought back. 

There was no reply from Vader. He was silent, probably thinking over what Luke had said. Or else this was the indication that the conversation was over. 

Part of Luke hoped so; it was starting to get awkward. But then...then another part of him hoped that Vader would say something. That he would maybe, just maybe, start opening up, and then--

_You should go back to sleep._

Luke sighed. It had been too much to hope for. 

_I can’t,_ he told Vader sharply. 

_You_ **_must,_ ** Vader shot back, louder this time. _We have much to do._

Luke knew that. He did. But every time he closed his eyes he saw the vision. 

But he _really wanted to sleep--_

Well. If Vader wanted him to sleep, then Luke had another question he could ask. Because so far, even without the vision, he couldn’t see himself sleeping with Vader standing over him the whole time. 

_Well, then,_ Luke thought, _could you at least move away?_

The temperature dropped. 

_Why would I do that?_

The demand was flat, and harsh. Luke swallowed. 

_I just...you don’t have to stand that close. I’m not going to run away._

_So you keep telling me._ Vader’s mental voice had officially returned to being demanding. Damn. _But everyone else in the vicinity seems determined to help you run away. And you have escaped me too many times._

Luke sighed again. So much for that. 

_I am not going to_ do _anything to you. You may sleep._

There was no response for that. How the hell could Luke explain to Vader how terrifying he was? Did Vader _know_ how terrifying he was? Luke assumed he did. But no one would have wanted to sleep inches away from a black-clad monster of a man who was watching them like a hawk the entire time, with breathing they could have heard fifty feet away. 

But there was nothing for it. He wouldn’t be sleeping; but he supposed he wouldn’t be able to argue. 

So he closed his eyes, shifted slightly against the tree, and tried to ignore the fact that Darth Vader was standing guard over him the entire time, probably ready to kill anyone who came near. 

He failed spectacularly. 

  
  


_The end of the corridor. The end of the corridor._

Aphra was almost there; she could tell. With a dragon behind her, and a dead end in front, she knew she was either about to die or succeed at her mission. It just depended how fast she worked. 

_Click-clack,_ came behind her, every now and then. It wasn’t all the time--the dragon was clearly making an effort to be quiet--but she could hear it. Only that sound told her how far behind her the creature was, and she was ever grateful for it. It had grown closer over the last hour, and at this point her back was _soaked_ with sweat; but it was still far enough behind Aphra that she figured she’d at least have time to put the acid into the blaster. 

If not...oh, well. That was the end. 

_No,_ she told herself fiercely, _not the end. It is not the end. I’m going to kill the dragons for Pandaki; it’s what he’d want._

She needed to avenge him. 

And she needed to help Luke. 

So far, those were the only two things keeping her from screaming at the top of her lungs and getting out of the facility any way she could. 

She kept walking, one foot in front of the other, scanning constantly for that storage closet. It would be small, according to Leia’s instructions, would be on the right--

And she was almost there. 

Just a little farther. Aphra turned another corner. 

_Click-clack._

Closer. 

She shivered, but still didn’t turn around. She just kept walking, trying to breathe slowly; a hand came up, for the umpteenth time, to wipe sweat out of her face. It wasn’t hot in this building at all, but she was sweating like crazy.

_Gee, I wonder why._

Aphra took another step, then another, and another. She wished she could run, faster than she’d run before, to reach the acid...but she couldn’t give the dragon anything to suspect. She had to keep going. 

_Click-clack. Click-clack._

Even closer...and more careless. She was hearing it more. 

It was getting impatient, she realized. It was almost done...it had decided to go for the kill now…

 _Please,_ she begged to whatever powers existed out there--maybe even the Force. She’d never wished so badly that she could use the Force. _Please, please, just let me get the acid…_

Why the hell had she done this? 

_Pandaki,_ she reminded herself. _Pandaki. For him. For him. For him._

_And for Luke._

_Don’t attack me, please don’t attack me…_

Another fourteen steps--she was _counting her steps,_ what the hell--and she was there, at the storage closet. She’d made it; and the dragon hadn’t attacked. 

No. No, not yet. She wasn’t safe until she had the acid.

Speaking of which…

Aphra swung the door open. There it was: a large, durasteel vat sat on the floor, the handle ready and waiting. She reached for it--

Then she noticed the thick gloves hanging on the wall. They looked to be made of sterner stuff than most gloves; she’d worn acid-resistant material before. She knew what it looked like. 

Listening once again--there was a brief click, and then nothing--she put on the gloves. 

_Now_ it was time to get to work. 

  
  


Veers had been waiting for half an hour before Piett at least returned--and stars, did he look horrible. Nothing had happened to him, obviously; but his face was pale and covered in a light sheen of sweat, and he was shaking. 

“Firmus,” he said, hurrying to meet him. “What’s wrong?”

“I spoke to the Emperor,” Piett told him grimly. “On Lord Vader’s behalf.” 

Veers frowned. Speaking to Palpatine couldn’t be _that_ terrible, he didn’t think...but then again, he’d never met their leader personally. 

“All right,” he said. “And what happened?” 

Piett shot him a look. 

Something froze in Veers’ stomach. Something was wrong...or if not wrong, something was much, much worse than he’d expected. 

“Okay,” Veers said, trying to make his voice softer. “We’ll go to my study.” 

“Thank you.” Piett sighed. “I’ll explain everything. But after that, I’m going to need a cup of caf. Probably several cups of caf. And then I’ll need to sleep for a week. And don’t bother to ask me how both of those work together; they just will.” He stopped, and stared at Veers. “But before we even go to your study, I need to talk to Lord Vader.” 

Veers’ frown deepened. He knew Piett was stressed, but Vader had specifically told them, _several times now,_ not to interfere. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said. 

A strange look came into Piett’s eyes, something almost desperate. Veers was seized with worry for his friend. 

“Max, this is serious,” Piett said in a low voice. “I am going to explain this to you. Trust me. And I know we have our orders. But, before any of that, it is _imperative_ that I _speak with Lord Vader.”_

Veers swallowed. Then he swallowed again. 

“All right,” he said. “Come with me.” 

  
  


The first blaster was ready. 

It had been painstaking work. Aphra had had to open the vat, then reach inside--the acid had burned partway through the gloves before stopping--pull out each cylinder, which contained some acid. Then she had to dip the cylinder in a liquid safe for ordinary materials, making sure it was entirely covered, and then put the cylinder in the chamber of the weapon usually set aside for blaster bolts. 

Now that was fully loaded, and it was onto the next one. They needed to have two blasters, in case one of them got taken out by a dragon. 

Aphra reached carefully inside the vat, drew out another cylinder, and began dipping it in the resin; then, hands shaking, she put it inside the chamber. Then the next one. Then…

_Click-clack._

Unless her ears were working wrong, the dragon was _right behind her._

She had to keep going. Hands shaking, Aphra dipped the cylinder in the resin--she wished she didn’t need that step, she knew it was necessary to keep the blaster from exploding from acid when the first cylinder was fired, but she really wished she didn’t need to do that--and then put it in the blaster. Twelve cylinders to go. She reached for another--

The dragon hissed. 

_Shit,_ she thought. 

No more. She couldn’t do this until she’d taken care of the dragon. She hadn’t wanted it to call any more friends, not until she was ready, but--

Aphra spun around. Something flew at her. 

On instinct, she ducked; then there was a _smack,_ and some of that goo was on the wall. 

The Spitting krayt. 

It had followed her _all the way from the jungle._

She spun back to face the dragon. It stared at her…

And then, something seemed to rattle in its throat, it let out something between a screech and a hiss, and the skin behind its neck _rose_ and flapped at her like a fan. 

Aphra let out a scream. 

Then the dragon came at her--it wasn’t playing around anymore--and Aphra was barely even thinking, scrambling backwards, reaching for the first thing she could find--the blaster--firing--

With a hiss of its own, the acid flew out at the dragon and struck it square on the chest. 

The dragon froze. Then it looked down, at its chest; the acid was bubbling on its chest, Aphra noticed, soaking in immediately. 

The dragon screamed. 

It knew what the acid was, Aphra realized in horror. 

But she didn’t scream as it came at her this time. She knew exactly what she was going to do, because this moment was all that mattered; this was the test. This was what determined whether she and her friends would live or die. 

It was survival of the fittest. 

Aphra ducked under the next ray of spit, launched herself backwards toward her Mandalorian blaster, the one that was half a grenade, she touched it--

Then the dragon landed on her legs. 

She couldn’t reach it. 

But it was _right there._

“Oh, SCREW YOU!” Aphra yelled, half out of anger and half out of absolute terror. Then, somehow, she threw herself up with every ounce of strength she possessed, pulling at muscles in her arms and legs until the dragon was off of her and she had the blaster in hand. 

The dragon spun around, hissed, and launched itself at her. 

Aphra fired. 

There was an explosion--a scream--smoke rose in the air, and Aphra was thrown backwards, hitting her head against the wall. 

For a moment, everything went dark. 

Then, very slowly, the world was returned to her. Aphra groaned, blinking blood out of her eyes as she sat up, and remembered what had happened. 

The dragon. 

It was lying on the floor. 

Could it be…? 

Slowly, dragging herself up along the wall, Aphra got to her feet and staggered closer. She didn’t even have any of the blasters; she was aware that if it hadn’t worked, she’d be dead. 

Then she was there, standing over the dragon. 

It wasn’t moving. 

And there was a hole the size of a sabacc chip in its chest. 

Aphra blinked. She almost passed out. Then she looked again. 

There. Was a _hole._ In the dragon’s blasterproof chest. 

Aphra stared again...and then, a whoop of absolute joy made its way out of her chest. 

“It works,” she gasped, almost unable to believe it. “It works! Son of a bitch, it--it _actually works!”_

She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe it, _she couldn’t believe it--_

 _Pandaki,_ she thought, _you’d be proud._

Overcome, she couldn’t help but do a little victory dance around the hall. It worked, it worked, it worked--

Her relief was cut short by an earth-shaking tremor. 

Aphra froze. 

There was a puddle of the Spitting krayt’s blood on the floor, and it was rippling...so slowly…

The ground shook again. 

“Shit,” Aphra whispered. 

And then the wall behind her burst open, and with a scream that just about shattered her eardrums, the Greater krayt they had all forgotten about smashed its way into the facility. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a filler chapter once again, but after this the action really gets going. 
> 
> Leave some love in the comments!


	36. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aphra deals with the Greater krayt; back at the campsite, everyone else makes a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More warning for gory description towards the beginning.

Aphra froze. 

Her first instinct was to run. Everything in her wanted to run, to get away from the krayt dragon who now stood there towering over her; but somehow, amidst the terror, she kept her head. If she didn’t move, she would be safe. She remembered vaguely how, that first night, Darth Vader had made sure both he and Luke were kept still, and the dragon hadn’t eaten them. The one intelligent thing the guy had ever done. 

He’d done it in a really weird way, she realized; had pulled Luke...against him, almost protectively. That was weird. Why hadn’t she thought of it until now? 

_ Your brain is throwing up thoughts ‘cause you’re terrified, dumbass. Focus!  _

So Aphra focused. She tried to breathe through her nose, so that her chest was barely moving up and down; she kept staring at the same spot. Even one movement of her eyes could alert the krayt that something was off. 

It was hard. 

It was very,  _ very, VERY  _ hard. 

Because the whole time, the Greater krayt was staring right at her. The huge teeth hovered over her, almost sniffing, searching…

And then the great monster dipped her head. 

Aphra didn’t dare look. She didn’t dare move. All she could think was that she’d been  _ so close-- _

Something crunched. 

Aphra almost jumped, almost screamed; but it hadn’t been her, because she felt no pain. Obviously. But then the thing crunched again, and then she smelled something  _ horrible.  _

She couldn’t help it. She looked down. 

The Greater krayt was devouring the Spitting krayt Aphra had killed. 

_ Well,  _ she thought nervously, watching the larger krayt tear into the smaller one, watched dark blood stain the huge teeth.  _ This isn’t pleasant.  _

But maybe, just maybe...this could be her way out. If the dragon was distracted…

It wasn’t much. But it was hope. 

Aphra watched the Greater krayt for a few more seconds; it only kept eating. Then, slowly, not taking her eyes off the gruesome sight, she lowered herself to her knees, reached behind her to pick up the first of the blasters containing snail acid, and stood back up. 

The dragon hadn’t moved. 

Aphra tried to breathe slowly. She’d have to look away for the other one; it wasn’t immediately in reach. 

The dragon kept eating. 

She looked over her shoulder. There it was, about two feet behind her. If that. 

She looked back. 

The dragon was staring right at her. 

Aphra was kept from pissing her pants only by the realization that if she did so, the dragon might see movement down her leg and get suspicious. 

_ Once I get off this planet, I’m never sleeping again.  _

The dragon stared into Aphra’s eyes for one second. Two seconds. Three, four, five, six...twelve…

Then she turned back to the Spitting krayt and resumed her...lunch. 

_ Breakfast,  _ Aphra corrected herself. _ It’s obviously breakfast, it’s not even dawn yet. Or maybe since dragons are awake at night, this IS lunch. That would make sense.  _

_ Shut the hell up,  _ she thought a second later. 

Aphra waited again; she counted to twenty this time. She should have waited longer, but the Spitting krayt wasn’t too large; it would not take too long for a creature of the Greater krayt’s size to eat it. 

_ I wonder how long it would take for it to eat me?  _

_ SHUT UP! _

When the twenty seconds were up, Aphra slowly, carefully, took a step backwards and to the left. 

The dragon didn’t move from her position. 

Aphra took a deep, shuddering breath and lowered herself again, inch by inch, to a crouch. Then the blaster was beneath her hands, and she picked it up, never looking away from the Greater krayt--she moved it toward her belt and--

The krayt looked. 

Aphra froze where she was, in the most uncomfortable position she could possibly have been caught in; but she didn’t dare move. 

The Greater krayt returned to what was probably, definitely lunch, and not breakfast, and resumed eating. 

Aphra moved the rest of the way and clipped the blaster to her belt. 

Now she was ready. 

She had both blasters in her belt. She had the long, Mandalorian blaster in her hand; she hadn’t let it go after killing the Spitting krayt. 

And now she would have to leave. And she couldn’t stop looking at the dragon. 

Aphra took a deep breath. Then another. Then another--

_ Stop it. You’re going to hyperventilate.  _

The Spitting krayt was...Aphra didn’t want to think about it, but she had to. The Spitting krayt’s head was totally gone. Half the chest was gone--with that acid having soaked in, the Greater krayt was able to eat that nicely--and she was licking up some of the blood inside it. Two out of four limbs were missing. The tail was still attached. 

She could, she supposed, fire the acid at the Greater krayt, and then kill it; but there was the chance she’d miss, that it would see the movement and attack before she could fire...and once she got the weapons back to everyone, they’d all stand a better chance of killing the dragons. 

The first goal was escape. And she had some time, but she’d have to go slowly. 

It was now or never. 

So Aphra, holding all her weapons, took a step backward as before, never taking her eyes off the Greater krayt. Then another step. Then another. Then another…

She continued across the corridor in this way, one foot at a time, moving as silently as she knew how, touching the wall every now and then to feel for where she was...because she would not have dared to look over her shoulder, even once. All she had to do was get out of this current corridor. Once that had happened, she would be able to turn around, because then she’d turn a corner and the krayt dragon wouldn’t be able to see her. 

But until then, this was how she would have to do it. 

Aphra kept moving, watching the Greater krayt, grateful that every step took her farther away from a sight she was sure she’d have nightmares about. Every now and then, the monster looked up...but each time she would freeze, and each time, gradually, the krayt would return to its meal. 

And then, finally, at long last, the krayt disappeared from her sight. 

Aphra heaved a sigh of relief. She wasn’t free yet, not by a long shot; there were still at least three corridors to walk, then she’d have to go up a level and climb out of the facility. 

But now the Greater krayt wouldn’t see her. 

Just in case, Aphra kept on walking backwards, so slowly, for about five minutes. Then, looking back, she could tell she’d almost reached the end of the second corridor. 

The Greater krayt was still eating; she could hear it faintly, in the distance. 

“Joke’s on you, bitch,” Aphra muttered under her breath; the words were cathartic. 

Then, she turned and ran. 

She’d only reached the end of the corridor before a great  _ roar  _ shook the entire facility. The lights flickered. 

It knew by  _ hearing,  _ knew that if it wasn’t Aphra, there was some sort of prey--

Aphra didn’t wait to hear the thundering footsteps of the dragon. Instead, she turned without a moment’s hesitation and ran for her life. 

  
  


As he’d expected, Luke didn’t manage to sleep at all the rest of the night. Every time he drew close to falling asleep, he’d see Dravos in the Greater krayt’s mouth, or he’d imagine a dragon coming right at Ruya; and when it wasn’t that, it was that he couldn’t even think about sleep with that constant, unending  _ kssh-kosh  _ of Vader’s respirator in his ear. 

So Luke didn’t sleep. 

Of course, that meant he was alone with his thoughts, which wasn’t always a good thing. Especially because there was one specific thought on his mind. 

_ How was he going to escape Vader? _

He supposed the first question was whether he  _ wanted  _ to escape Vader. And that itself was complicated. Initially, he’d wanted to; he still wanted to, because what he did  _ not  _ want was to be at his father’s mercy in any way. And he was certain that, the moment they made it back to the  _ Executor,  _ Vader would stop even trying to connect with Luke and simply demand that he turn to the Dark Side. 

Luke knew that. He hoped it would be otherwise...but every single thing he knew about Darth Vader told him that that was what would happen. 

But then there was the matter of his mother. 

_ Padme Amidala.  _ Luke had never known anything about his mother; no one seemed to know who she had been. But upon hearing that, that he’d had a mother…

It meant that his father, quite possibly, had...loved someone. 

And that it was then possible that he even cared about Luke at all. 

But even if he did care,  _ even then,  _ it was still obvious that Vader was volatile. That he was angry, and that he had little control over that anger; what did that mean for Luke, if Luke was stuck with him, as his prisoner? 

And, he realized, Vader had never even told him that he loved his mother. He’d only said that the former Queen of Naboo had been his mother, but he hadn’t said  _ how... _ of course, Luke had inferred that he  _ must  _ have loved her, because she wasn’t some random woman, she’d been a queen and a senator. 

But his father was  _ Darth Vader,  _ after all. From what Luke knew of him, he was so accustomed to getting whatever he wanted--

So how had it happened? Luke didn’t want to think about it. It was a horrifying thought. But still, had...had Vader--

**_No._ **

Luke jolted at the voice in his head; and instantly, he realized that Vader had just done what he’d promised not to do. He’d read Luke’s mind. 

But, given the topic of conversation, Luke didn’t mind, for once. 

He opened his eyes. 

_ What?  _ he thought tiredly.  _ What are you-- _

_ Whatever you think, it did not happen. Your mother was a  _ **_queen_ ** _ among women, and I-- _

He broke off. 

But Luke wondered. He wondered if what Vader had been about to say was  _ I loved her.  _

Luke swallowed. He still had no way of believing if it were actually true, but...the  _ blind fury  _ in Vader’s mind-voice at the mere implication of what Luke had been thinking had to count for  _ something.  _

And maybe, Luke thought, maybe if Vader had loved his mother...he just wouldn’t be able to say it. 

_ I wish he’d say it,  _ he thought furiously, making sure his shields were raised enough.  _ I wish I had some affirmation.  _

But for now, that was enough. 

Luke looked across to the Naberries and Leia. This time, he suspected that Leia was actually, truly, asleep. 

“Don’t read my thoughts,” he said, out loud, turning to look up at Vader. 

“It was unintentional,” Vader said. “I...will attempt...not to do it again.” 

Luke sighed. Well. At least there was that. 

He closed his eyes again, feeling very slightly less anxious. He’d almost confirmed that Vader had actually loved his mother. 

Then...then what had happened? 

Vader couldn’t have always been in that suit. It was a strange thing to think about; it was all Luke knew of him. The past few days had forced him to grudgingly accept the truth, and in that time he’d also come to understand that he had a cold, terrifying father. He couldn’t even  _ imagine  _ anything under the helmet. 

But, if Luke existed, there had to have been  _ something.  _ Once. 

And his mother was now dead. 

So what had happened? 

There was a rustle of cloth. Luke didn’t open his eyes; but when he listened, he noticed that the steady rasp of the respirator sounded slightly farther away. 

Vader  _ had  _ moved. He  _ was  _ thinking about what Luke wanted. 

The thought, coupled with the fact that Vader had probably loved his mother for certain, gave Luke the most peace he’d had in days. He didn’t sleep; with the visions, he did not want to do that. But in seconds, he felt a feeling of pure light, of calm, and he knew he’d slipped into a meditation trance. 

He’d only done it once, with Yoda-- _ before Bespin, before everything changed-- _ and Luke had forgotten how good it felt. It was no substitution for real sleep, but it was as close as he could get. In seconds, a warm, healing sensation had spread through his limbs, renewing his strength, bringing him peace...even lessening the pain in his leg. 

For the first time in almost twenty-four hours, his leg didn’t hurt. 

Luke sat there, basking in the light side of the Force, unaware of the world around him. It was so nice, he thought, to just float...to feel  _ calm,  _ actual calm, for the first time in over a month. There were no worries here. There were no troubles, no injuries, no terrifying fathers--

Someone screamed. 

The sound broke into Luke’s trance, but not soon enough; the next thing he knew, there was an unyielding grip around his bicep, and he was being hauled up. 

He blinked his open rapidly. Force, he was  _ exhausted-- _

“Can you stand?” Vader demanded, right in his face. 

Luke struggled to fight off memories of that mask hovering over him, the red blade at his chest. He was half successful. 

“Uh--uh, yeah,” he stammered. He actually didn’t know, so he tested his leg; it still  _ burned  _ to put weight on it, but at least he wasn’t at risk of passing out every time he did so. “Yeah. Well enough.” 

The vocoder emitted an odd noise; Luke realized it must have been a snort. Vader didn’t believe him. 

“That will not suffice,” he said. “But it will have to.”

Vader stepped back just as Leia and the Naberries surrounded him. 

"It's too early," Ruya complained. "I wanna go back to bed." 

"Don't we all," Luke muttered. 

“It’s barely even dawn,” Leia said. “What’s going on? I heard someone scream--”

_ Who are the options?  _ Luke asked himself. _Who's not dead yet?_  


Oh, no. 

Luke looked at Leia. Realization dawned in her eyes. 

“Aphra,” they said together, and ran forward. 

Immediately, a hand closed on the back of Luke’s jacket; looking to the side, he saw that the same thing had happened to Leia. 

“You will  _ not  _ move,” Vader snarled at them. “You do not know what is out there. You do not understand the situation, and  _ you--”  _ He turned to address Luke specifically. “You are  _ injured.  _ You will not be going anywhere.” 

Vader waited a moment, as if seeing if his words were understood, before setting them down. Luke’s bad leg wobbled for a moment, and he had to hold out his arms to steady himself. 

Leia, however, had no such injuries, so she spun on Vader. 

“You,” she snarled, “you  _ dare--” _

“Leia,” Luke said, gripping her arm partly to stop her from doing anything, and partly to keep himself standing. “Leia, let’s just wait. We don’t know what’s happening.” 

He hated to agree with Vader, but it was clear they wouldn’t be going anywhere.

A downright murderous look came into Leia’s eyes, but she stayed at Luke’s side.  _ “Fine.”  _

Behind them, Luke saw Amil pull something out of his jacket. He turned around. 

It was some kind of weapon. 

“What’s that?” he asked, curious. 

“Tranquilizer blaster,” Amil told him grimly. “This only has five darts in it, so I didn’t want to use it; but if we don’t get the acid, this is the closest thing we have.” 

Luke nodded, feeling a little more relieved; but he also didn’t like the notion that Aphra might not be coming back. So he said nothing. 

They waited in the dark, all seven of them: Vader ready for battle standing in front of Luke and Leia; Sola and Amil, with Ruya perched on Amil’s shoulders; and Artoo, who’d come to stand behind Luke. 

_ What is happening?  _ the droid asked him.

“We’re waiting for someone,” Luke said thickly, trying not to let any of his fear come through in his voice. “A friend.” 

_ I can electrocute a dragon again if you want.  _

Luke had to resist laughing; he didn’t think it was completely appropriate to the situation, though it would have relieved some of his fear. 

“Maybe, Artoo,” he said. “Maybe if the dragon’s not huge.”

Almost before he’d finished speaking, there was a sound in the distance. Luke braced himself, saw Leia pull her blaster, saw and felt Vader tense...but it sounded like a person shouting. 

Luke frowned and tried to listen. He couldn’t make out the words, but it had…

His train of thought was cut off as a small figure appeared in the distance, just at the edge of the jungle; a human, running faster than Luke had thought possible--

Luke heaved a sigh of relief and smiled. 

It was Aphra, and she was shouting at the top of her lungs.

“IT WORKS!” she yelled at them, and she was grinning, Luke saw. “I’ve got it! It works!” 

Luke barely had time to think what those words could mean when the earth trembled; he gripped Leia’s arm tightly to keep himself from being knocked over. 

He’d jinxed himself. It was indeed a huge dragon. 

“Aphra!” Leia shouted. “Run!” 

She was running as fast as she could, Luke could tell that; but as Leia’s words, without even looking behind her, Aphra gritted her teeth and pumped her legs faster, carrying her farther up the hill, crashing through the trees--

And then the trees bent. The ground shook--and the Greater krayt emerged into the jungle. 

“Here!” Aphra pulled something out of her pocket. “You have to--”

The krayt dragon had caught up; its head dipped down towards her. Luke was a second from screaming when Aphra dodged, leaping to the side--

And the tail caught her, and she was thrown through the air. 

The object she’d been holding fell to the side--closer to them, but still too far away. Luke could see that it was a blaster. 

Why had she wanted them to have that? It couldn’t do anything. 

“That’s it,” Leia said, and Luke had second thoughts. “That’s one of the blasters, it has the acid.” 

_ It works,  _ Aphra had been shouting. 

Somehow, she’d tested it. The acid worked. It would allow them to kill the dragons. 

“We have to get that blaster,” he said. 

The others, including Vader, were shifting around, uncertain of what to do; the dragon was stomping her way towards Aphra, who was lying unconscious against a tree. She, Luke supposed, hadn’t seen them moving, so she didn’t think they were there. 

But Aphra had done this for them. He couldn’t let her  _ die.  _

He glanced at Leia. She nodded; and, taking a deep breath, ran towards the blaster. 

The Greater krayt stopped in its tracks, spun, and roared at her. 

“Leia!” Luke shouted. “Freeze!” 

She froze just in time, but the krayt had already seen her moving; the monster came towards Leia now, mouth already open--

No time.

They couldn’t get the blaster. Aphra was unconscious. Sola had pushed Ruya behind her. Vader was ready with his lightsaber, but without the acid blaster, that wouldn’t do anything either--

Everything depended on that  _ stupid snail acid.  _

Luke reached out a hand for the blaster. Surely he could retrieve this. He hadn’t tried anything like that since Bespin, of course, but--

The blaster wiggled, but it didn’t budge.  _ Dammit.  _

The dragon was close to Leia, who didn’t seem to know what to do--just a few seconds and it would have her. 

Luke struggled harder. The blaster trembled, but it still wasn’t coming--

Then there were soft footsteps to his left, and Amil Naberrie was running past him with the tranquilizer. 

“Easy, son, I’ve got this,” he said--and Luke tried to ignore how Vader jolted at the word ‘son’--and before Luke knew it Amil had readied the weapon,  _ slid in front of Leia just as the dragon closed in,  _ and fired point-blank. 

There was a sharp  _ pop!  _ The dragon actually froze on the spot, and for a moment Luke thought she’d been hit; then she growled and lunged at Amil. Just in time, Sola’s husband seemed to realize that he’d missed and ducked out of the way...but not fast enough. One of the krayt’s front claws sliced across his chest, and he dropped like a stone. 

Sola screamed. 

Then, several things happened at once. Sola ran forward. Leia grabbed Amil and pulled him out of the way as the dragon lunged again. Before the creature could strike, it was rendered still; Vader stood, a looming figure against the moon, one hand clenched in a fist. 

_ We must have the blaster, Luke.  _

The thought came in a sharp demand, and Luke put aside his anger at Vader for the moment; he was right. They needed it. 

But he couldn’t run to it…

He’d just  _ have to  _ succeed with the Force. 

Luke closed his eyes and reached out again. It was difficult, thinking past the pain in his leg, and his ribs, and his shoulder, and his exhaustion and  _ everything else,  _ but he made himself remember the peace he’d felt earlier, during his meditation. He remembered the sense of calm…

The mere idea of his mother…

_ There’s a chance my father loved my mother. A chance. There’s a chance… _

Something hard and cold flew into his hand. Luke opened his eyes, and there it was; he’d pulled the blaster into his hand. 

Now to get to work. 

“I have it!” he shouted. 

**_Good. Fire._ **

Luke thought it was incredibly ridiculous that Vader didn’t want to be caught dead giving him praise, but he had no time to think about it. He made himself walk, dragging his leg across the ground, knelt, and fired. 

Luke had trained with a lightsaber more frequently, but his skills with a blaster were as good as they had ever been. With a sharp  _ thwack!,  _ the acid struck the dragon right in the chest. 

Immediately, a curious thing happened: it started to spread outward, and at the same time, it soaked in, working its way across the breastplate.  _ This is it,  _ Luke thought as Vader lowered his hand,  _ that’s it. We’re going to kill them. We’re going to kill the dragons.  _

“Finally,” Vader growled, igniting his lightsaber. “We will put an end to this.” 

Then he stopped. 

Luke frowned, not understanding. What was going on? They needed to kill the dragons, and Vader wanted them dead more than anyone, so why--

The dragon was looking down at her chest. It was almost...almost like…

Like she  _ recognized  _ the acid. 

Of course. Of course, to know how it worked on dragons, it must have been tested...and she had been one of the test subjects. Or she’d seen it in action.

She knew what it did. 

“Kill her now!” Luke shouted, his voice an octave higher than usual; but Vader was already moving, he seemed to have realized the same thing, his arm was drawn back, ready for the kill--

Abruptly, the dragon straightened up, roared, and took off in the opposite direction.

Luke froze on the spot, unsure of what to do. Leia stared. Sola stared. Even Vader seemed shocked, standing where he was with his lightsaber at his side. 

Slowly, the shaking of the earth receded, and the odd group of eight was left alone. 

  
  


Vader had certainly not expected that. 

Everything had been unprecedented; but with the arrival of the Greater krayt, the original monster, he had thought they would get a chance to test the acid that Aphra had brought back.  _ Allegedly,  _ it worked, but he did not trust her with that; he needed to see it in action. 

And it had worked. He had seen it soak in, do what it needed to do. 

But then the  _ dragon  _ had known what it did. 

Even the stupidest of these creatures, who could not even hunt by movement, had known. The dragons were far more intelligent than Vader could have ever imagined. Worthy opponents, in a different scenario; but he needed them dead. They were keeping him from his  _ son.  _

As the dragon vanished, several things needed to be taken care of. First, there was Amil Naberrie. The way Sola had sounded when she cried out had stirred something uncomfortable in him--

It had reminded him too much of the way... _ she  _ had sounded when someone else was brought back from a mission, injured. 

Vader did not want to be involved. He should never have been involved. But he stayed to make sure that the man was alive; he did not care about the man. However, Sola cared.

_ No. He is useful. That is all.  _

Then there was the matter of Aphra. Once it was clear that Amil Naberrie would survive, Organa got to her feet and started marching off to the doctor. Then, she turned back to look at Luke.

“Come on,” she said, almost  _ casually.  _ “Let’s go see if she’s all right.” 

Organa would not have dared to try to escape now. She knew their current situation, and Aphra was their friend. But there was something she  _ wanted,  _ something she wanted to get Luke alone for. That much was obvious. 

_ She is trying to get him to turn against you.  _

_ It would not be hard. He is hardly  _ with  _ you now. At a word from her, he will never again listen to a thing you say… _

He had made good strides with Luke lately. Surprisingly good strides. 

He could not let that go to waste. 

Vader put a hand on Luke’s shoulder and yanked him back, ignoring the boy’s startled yelp. 

“No,” he said, tightening his grip when Luke tried to move away. “Skywalker is injured. Beyond that, I would not presume that it takes more than one medically unqualified person to check someone’s vitals.” 

Organa stared at him for a long time, her eyes darting between him and Luke, before finally spinning on her heel and practically  _ stomping  _ towards Aphra like a petty child. 

When she was a good distance away, Luke shifted to glare up at Vader. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said. “I’m not going to escape.” 

Vader regarded him for a moment. Luke, as small as he was, glared up at him with such righteous fury in his eyes, such determination, so unwilling to back down…

How had he not realized it until this moment? Luke was not like him. 

Luke was so, so,  _ so  _ much like  _ her.  _

Like Padme. 

Vader’s heart constricted, but for the first time in years he was able to even think her name. 

“Even so,” he said, “you should not tax yourself.” 

Luke continued to glare at him, but at this point Vader wondered if he was merely being stubborn. 

He continued to look at him for another moment before letting him go. 

Luke stepped back, wobbling on his feet, but he held himself steady; and then the glare in his eyes turned to something softer. Vader turned away. 

Luke wanted something from him. Vader  _ knew  _ what he wanted. 

He wanted his father to be...well. A father. And Vader could not do that. 

He had tried. He had tried to at least pretend, in the last day, ever since his discussion with the boy’s grandmother; and he  _ had  _ made progress. They both had. 

But it was clear that it was not enough, for someone so soft-hearted as Luke. 

And Vader did not know how to go farther. He had not the slightest idea how to  _ be a father.  _

_ You are being selfish again.  _

Vader looked down. 

That blasted droid. 

“It is not your business to tell me that,” he growled, too aware that Luke was right there, that Organa and Aphra were so near. “I am doing what I must.” 

_ You have never been a good liar.  _

Vader was almost surprised, at that. How dare he. 

Perhaps if he indulged him, the droid would stop bothering him. 

“No,” Vader agreed. “Anakin was not good. That was one of his faults.”

_ I said that you have  _ never  _ been a good liar. That includes now.  _

Vader clenched his fists. So much for indulging the droid. Once again, here was that damned connection between himself and his past...the past he could not admit. But what the droid did not understand was  _ why  _ he could not admit it. If he admitted to being Anakin Skywalker, then he admitted to--

No. 

He could not go there. 

Fortunately, he was saved from a response by the arrival of the three Naberries. Sola was helping Amil walk. 

“We have a problem,” Sola said grimly. 

“That would be evident.” 

She stared at him, as if in disbelief that such a monster was even capable of sarcasm, before proceeding. 

“Amil is fine now,” she said. “But...the wound was infected. We have nothing to clean it with, and somehow, we need to get him to a medical supply.”

“Leia has one,” Luke piped up, coming to stand by Sola.  _ Sola,  _ not Vader. “She mentioned it to me, she came in the  _ Falcon.”  _

Vader almost sputtered. 

_ “That ship?”  _ He was aware how incredulous he sounded, and tried to control himself. But he did not like the fact that before outsmarting Luke’s friends at Bespin, he had been outwitted three times by the stupidest smuggler to have ever lived. It had been with relish that he sent Solo into carbonite. “There must be something of better  _ quality.”  _

“There isn’t,” Luke said, and Vader realized his son was  _ smirking.  _ “Listen, I know that ship. Han’s not there, but it has a good medical supply. It’s the best we have--I don’t think Aphra has her bag anymore.” 

Vader was about to object when he realized he had an opportunity on his hands. Amil Naberrie needed to be taken to safety. Sola and Ruya would, of course, go with them. But as his fighting capability would be limited, they would need someone else. A protector. 

But not him, because he was needed to kill the dragons. 

Not Luke, because Luke was also needed, and he was injured. 

And not Aphra, because she would be of  _ excellent  _ help in  _ finding  _ the dragons, to begin with, given her background in archaeology and extinct creatures. 

So there was, really, only one option. 

It was mere coincidence that it would serve to get Organa away from Luke. 

“Organa was right,” Vader said softly, making sure that Organa, currently helping Aphra to her feet, could not hear. “We must split up.”

“Aw,” Ruya said, kicking the ground in mock melancholy. “But I’ll miss annoying you.” 

Sola shot her a severe look. 

Vader, however, ignored her. For once, he had the advantage. 

“I agree,” Sola said. 

Luke’s mouth fell open. He was clearly shocked. 

“But F--” he started, then turned white. “Vader? I thought you--”

“Amil was not injured at the time,” he said, trying to affect a casual tone. “It is the only way. Sola will, of course, take her injured husband to the  _ Falcon.  _ But they will need a guide. Preferably one who is...experienced, in that arena.” 

Understanding dawned on Luke’s face. 

“She might not be enough,” he said. “I can--”

Fear rose in Vader; he wanted to escape, either consciously or unconsciously. He had known it all along, and he  _ could not let Luke slip away from him.  _

“No,” he said, putting a hand on Luke’s shoulder again; that had been sufficient to restrain him before. “You are needed here. Your skills will be of use in killing the dragons.” 

Once again, Luke glared at him, but he seemed to see sense. 

Unfortunately, Sola was watching. 

“Are you sure?” she asked, her eyes narrowed. “Luke? Do you really want to go with him?”

“I have to,” Luke said through clenched teeth. Vader reined in his anger. Soon, Luke would  _ choose  _ to assist him. “Unfortunately.” 

“It is settled, then,” Vader said--very good, because Organa and Aphra were just arriving. 

The group turned to greet the newcomers. 

Aphra was walking fine, but limping slightly. She would be of use to them, Vader had to admit; so it was a good thing she was uninjured, for the most part. 

“She’s fine,” Organa said. “Narrow escape, though.” She glanced around at all of them. “What’s the plan?”

Vader stepped forward. He would relish this for eternity. 

“Amil Naberrie must go to your ship to be treated,” he told her. “Sola and Ruya will assist him, but they will need one guide--only one. Someone who knows, perhaps, where to go...and someone with considerable skill in combat.” 

Organa stared at him, and stared--and, amidst the burning rage in her eyes, he saw it dawn on her. 

“Fine,” she said, sounding just as reluctant as Luke had minutes ago. “You’re right. I presume you’ll be going after the dragons?”

“Yeah,” Luke confirmed. 

Organa didn’t look at him though. She continued to stare at Vader. 

_ And then I’ll get Luke away from you,  _ her eyes seemed to be saying. 

That would not happen. 

As soon as the dragons were dead, the Princess Organa would never see Luke Skywalker again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm bad at writing combat scenes lol but I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I think it was the father son scenes. (And there will be more to come.)  
> Leave some love in the comments!


	37. The Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party splits up; Luke and Aphra have a terrifying encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some...gross description towards the end. You'll know it when you see it, lol.

This was much worse than Leia had imagined. 

As it turned out, the group actually  _ was  _ splitting up, but not at all in the way she had planned. Instead, while she had been so kindly making sure that Aphra was not injured, Darth Vader had orchestrated things so that  _ she and Luke  _ were split up. Obviously, he’d done it on purpose; Leia had seen from the start that he knew what she was trying to do, and that he wanted Luke with him and off the planet more than anything. From the start, it had been a constant battle between them, even though they’d never spoken outright about it. 

And now, it was  _ Vader  _ who had won. 

Leia was furious, more so than she’d ever been before; but more than that, she was terrified. Terrified for Luke. Because, yes, Aphra was going with them...but against Vader, what could the doctor hope to do? Besides, Leia was never sure of that woman’s motives. She could be here to help Luke; or she could be here for some other goal of hers. There was just no telling. 

If Leia were there, she could help. She knew she’d been helping already; Vader was frustrated and obviously angry, and Luke...well. Around her, she could see that he was relieved. If she were a Jedi, she’d say that she could feel it. And now...now, he’d be left with Vader alone, which he clearly  _ didn’t want.  _

And then there was a final feeling plaguing her: sadness.

Leia had just barely found Luke, and now she’d be forced to leave him. 

And the worst part was that she couldn’t do anything about it. 

At the moment, Leia stood by Aphra’s side as Luke put another bacta patch on his leg; she wanted to help him, but even now, minutes before their departure, Vader wouldn’t let her get close to him. He probably didn’t even want to risk her being able to snatch Luke away from him. 

_ I hate him,  _ Leia thought as she watched Luke sitting there, looking absolutely miserable.  _ I hate him so, so much.  _

“Hey,” hissed Aphra’s voice next to her, and Leia realized Aphra had said her name at least twice, and she’d missed it. 

Irritably, Leia turned to look at her.  _ “What?” _

“Don’t snap at me,” Aphra muttered out of the corner of her mouth. “If you stopped your seething for two seconds, you might notice other things.” 

_ “Other things,”  _ Leia echoed, confused. “Like what?”

“I know you haven’t been here long,” Aphra said; she continued to speak quietly, as if afraid of being overheard. “But I have, and I’m finally starting to see something.”

“About what?” Leia demanded. “Listen, I’m short on time here--”

“Don’t talk loudly,” Aphra said, drawing Leia away from Luke--and the Sith Lord standing about three meters from him--and that was when Leia realized that this was  _ about  _ Luke. Or Vader. Or both of them. “Just...just listen. At first, when Vader showed up, I confess I was terrified. I didn’t think about Luke. I only thought about myself and how I was going to get away.” 

“That’s nothing to confess,” Leia said dryly. “We all know that.” 

Aphra glared at her. 

“The  _ point is,  _ I wasn’t noticing anything unusual. Turns out Vader was after Luke Skywalker more than he was after me, and why should I be suspicious? I was relieved. It meant I’d be able to escape.” 

Leia almost offered a retort again--all she wanted was to find some opportunity to talk to Luke before they had to leave--but then she remembered just  _ why  _ Aphra was so terrified of Darth Vader. He had fired her by throwing her out of an airlock and into space, where she’d almost died. That would be an experience enough to give anyone trauma. 

_ Just like what he did to me,  _ she thought, and then shuddered at the memory. Enough of that. 

“Understandable,” she said.

Aphra nodded and continued. “But as the days passed, and dragons appeared, and I kept failing to leave the planet because...okay, listen. I never wanted to care about anyone. I was here for myself, but then Luke just  _ had  _ to be nice and selfless and get himself in trouble, didn’t he?”

Leia blinked. She...she sounded…

She sounded  _ far too much  _ like Han. 

Suddenly, Leia decided she liked Aphra a bit more. That was it, wasn’t it--she tried not to care, but found herself caring anyway, and she’d been through so much in life that she didn’t want to  _ risk  _ caring. 

“I understand,” she said softly. 

“Anyway,” Aphra went on briskly, “I stayed around. I didn’t leave. I didn’t get away, I spent more time around the sunshine kid and tall, dark and terrifying...and the more time I spent around them, the more I realized that something is going on.” 

“Going on,” Leia echoed. “Like...between Luke and Darth Vader? How?”

“Well, haven’t you--” Aphra shot a glance over her shoulder, and Leia followed her gaze; Vader still wasn’t looking at them. “Haven’t you noticed anything weird? Luke obviously is scared of him, and doesn’t want to go off with him. He’s his prisoner. But sometimes, the way they act...it’s like there’s something  _ personal  _ between them.” 

Personal. Now that she thought about it, Leia could see that; and ever since she had run into them, she’d noticed Vader doing some...strange things, where Luke was concerned. Hovering over him, insisting that he take a rest...things that she supposed made sense, if Luke was his prisoner; but she had to agree with Aphra. 

It was too personal to be just that. 

But then...what did it mean? 

Leia turned to look again: at Luke, sitting on the ground, just finishing with the bacta patch and grimacing as he carefully rolled his trouser leg down. At Vader, standing...not exactly right behind him, but close enough that no one else could have approached. 

_ Read between the lines, Organa. Come on.  _

Luke’s shoulders were hunched, he was tense; he was nervous, with Vader there all the time. That was understandable. Relatable. And Leia wanted nothing more than to run over there and pull Luke away, make sure he never had to be afraid again. But then, Vader…

The way Vader was standing over him...was strange. Leia couldn’t put her finger on it, but...

“In fact,” Aphra went on, interrupting Leia from her musings, “I don’t know about this, because this wouldn’t make any sense, but you see the way Vader’s standing, there?”

They’d had the same thought, Leia realized. Interesting. 

Leia turned to look at her. “I see it.” 

“Doesn’t it feel...I don’t know, almost... _ protective  _ to you?”

Leia did a double take. 

That was it. That was exactly what it felt like, that was the term she’d been trying to put her finger on--

But that  _ couldn’t be it.  _ This was  _ Darth Vader,  _ the Emperor’s Enforcer, the Sith Lord who’d wiped out the Jedi, who’d tortured her, who’d encased Han in carbonite, who’d cut off Luke’s hand…

“That doesn’t make sense,” she murmured. “It just doesn’t.” 

“I know,” Aphra said. “Trust me, I know. I’ve thought about it. And it sure is  _ weird.  _ But…” She shrugged. “That’s what it is.” 

“I wouldn’t say protective,” Leia said, wanting to shake the image from her mind, because Vader wouldn’t be  _ protecting  _ anyone, much less Luke; and then she decided to settle with the term she’d been thinking ever since she ran into them. “Feels more possessive to me.” 

“Sure. Maybe.” Aphra scratched her chin. “Yeah, maybe that makes more sense. Luke’s talked about Vader wanting to train him; I know that’s what’s on the cards. But all the same, you have to admit it’s weird.” 

“Oh, it is,” Leia said, trying to make it look like she  _ wasn’t  _ staring directly at Luke and Darth Vader. “It is definitely weird. But the question is, why? What does it mean?”

There was silence for a few moments. Aphra seemed to contemplate Leia’s question; and for a little while, they just stood there. 

What did it mean? Leia had to wonder. She hadn’t thought about it. But now that Aphra had mentioned something...now that she’d pointed it out...it was all she could see. Why would Vader be acting so possessively toward Luke? There was something personal between them, something going on…

Something, Leia realized, that had started at Bespin. 

This was it. Whatever they were trying to figure out here, it had to do with this secret Luke wasn’t telling her, this thing he was trying to hide. It was the reason he’d become so depressed, the reason he hadn’t been sleeping. It was all connected. 

“I don’t know,” Aphra said at last. “But I intend to find out.” 

Leia wished she could say the same. But she had to leave in about ten minutes; and most likely, she’d never get the chance to find out. 

_ I hate you,  _ she thought, glowering at Vader across the clearing.  _ I  _ hate  _ you.  _

Curiously, Vader’s helmet shifted toward her; and though she didn’t know how she knew it, Leia could feel him staring directly at her. It was uncomfortable, but Leia held his gaze as much as she could, tried to imagine that she was looking right into his eyes. 

_ You won’t take him away from me,  _ she hoped the look in her eyes was saying.  _ You might be able to split us up now, but you will not take Luke with you.  _

Vader simply stared back--and then his head tilted to the side, as if he’d heard something. 

Had he? 

She knew he could read thoughts. 

That made her doubly uncomfortable, and Leia wanted nothing more than to tear her eyes away; but that would be admitting a small defeat, and after losing to Vader already in the battle of wills, she was not about to do that. 

Fortunately, several seconds later, Vader seemed to lose interest--or something--and turned away, back to Luke. 

Leia released the breath she’d been holding. 

Aphra frowned. “What the hell was that about?”

“I’m not letting him take Luke away from me,” she said fiercely. “I’m  _ not.”  _

“What’s the big deal about it anyway?” Aphra asked. “I get that he’s your friend, but you seem anxious to get him alone.” 

“I am,” Leia said softly, and felt in her jacket to make sure the box was still there--it was. “I have something I need to give him...but Vader can’t know I’m giving it to him.” 

“That’s...extremely vague,” Aphra snorted. 

“Of course it is, Vader’s right there. But…” Leia clenched her fists. “I’m going to make it back to him. I’m not letting him get off the planet with that  _ monster.” _

“So are you saying I’ll find out?”

Leia smiled thinly. “Eventually.”

  
  


Luke’s leg was better than it had been a few hours ago...but not by much. 

The swelling had gone down, that was for sure; it didn’t look quite as red as it had been before. But the area over the wound still felt  _ hot,  _ and when he stood up, he was overwhelmed by an instant flash of pain. 

Then he steadied himself, and the pain abated to a steady throb. 

But that still wasn’t great, and--

“Can you walk?”

Luke flinched at the sudden voice behind him. He didn’t spin around, though, because he was feeling the least pain he’d felt from his leg since the injury had happened, and he didn’t want to ruin that. 

_ “Yes,”  _ he said through clenched teeth. “Why do you care?”

There was a moment of silence, filled only by the constant breathing that set his teeth on edge. Then Vader walked around to stand in front of him. 

“We...are going after the Alpha,” he said stiffly. “I must know that you will be able to assist.” 

Luke squinted at him. 

“Yeah,” he said, not knowing what else to say. “I will.” 

Vader stared at him for another moment that probably was not as long as it felt, before giving him a curt nod. 

“Good,” he said. “Then it is time to depart.” 

Luke resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Did  _ everything  _ Vader said have to sound so...well, so much like the proclamation of a god? 

Apparently. 

Luke waited for Vader to move first, but his father simply stood there, waiting. It was incredibly awkward, and Luke couldn’t imagine what--

Then Vader gestured, almost impatiently, for Luke to move forward. 

Of course. Once again, he was making sure Luke couldn’t escape. 

For a moment, Luke debated against simply standing there, being obstinate for the sake of it; but now wasn’t the time to challenge Vader on anything. He’d just have to wait. 

_ I’m tired of waiting,  _ he thought to himself. He also really, really didn’t want to have Vader  _ behind  _ him, where he couldn’t see him, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Clenching his fists, ignoring the pain in his leg, and trying not to look at the Sith Lord, he walked forward. 

A moment later, the breathing came behind him, the shadow fell over him, and it took all Luke’s self-control not to flinch. 

_ Just a little longer,  _ he thought.  _ Just a little longer, and then I can escape… _

But with that came the stray thought:  _ Does he actually care about me? Am I making a mistake in planning to escape? _

He decided not to think about it. 

Leia and Aphra were standing together, talking about something; as Luke and Vader approached, the two women broke apart. 

“Oh,” Leia said coldly. “So, we’re leaving now, are we.” 

Luke almost shivered. He could  _ feel  _ the ice in her voice. 

“Yes,” Vader thundered, his tone leaving no room for disagreement. “We will depart now. So I would suggest you say your farewells now.” 

“I don’t need to,” Leia said lightly. “I’ll see Luke again.” 

Her tone was confident, but her face...there was something there, some fear, some desperate need to…

She had something she had to say to him. 

Luke decided, then and there, that he  _ would  _ see Leia again. 

“Yeah,” he said, trying to affect the same casual tone that Leia was using. “See you soon, Leia.”

He met Leia’s eyes; she looked  _ so lost.  _

Luke could feel Vader’s eyes burning a hole in his back, but he decided he didn’t care. He moved forward and seized Leia in a tight hug. 

Her arms wrapped around him immediately, and Luke felt her tuck her face into the crook of his neck. They both needed this--after the last few days, he certainly did, but she’d been alone for so long too. 

She’d probably been terrified that he was dead. 

“I won’t leave you,” Luke whispered to her. “I promise.” 

Leia didn’t say anything back; she just hugged him tighter. 

A moment later, Vader’s hand seized on the back of Luke’s jacket and pulled them apart. 

“That is  _ quite _ enough,” the Sith Lord snarled. “A farewell does  _ not  _ mean embracing one another indefinitely.” 

Leia’s lost expression had vanished. Instead, she looked as though she were about two seconds away from launching herself at Vader, fists flying. 

“So, yeah,” Luke said. “Uh...we’ll see you later, Leia.”

He looked for Aphra--she was talking to the Naberries, and he took a step towards them. As soon as he’d done so, two heavy hands settled on his shoulders, and he tensed. 

If he was going to escape... _ how in the galaxy was he going to escape?  _

“Wait!” Leia called desperately. “Wait, please--”

_ Please.  _ Luke wouldn’t think she would dare to say that to Vader. 

“Let me talk to him,” she went on; Luke tried to turn around to look at her, but the pressure on his arms didn’t allow it. “Just for a minute. I won’t try to help him escape, but  _ I have to--” _

“No,” Vader said sharply, pushing Luke forward. 

And that was the end of it. 

  
  


That wasn’t the last of the good-byes. Ruya was quite tearful; she’d already had to part ways with Luke once, and this time she seemed to understand that it was official. Luke didn’t know what to say to her this time around; he was short on sleep, in pain, and as always Vader was  _ right there.  _

The worst part was that Artoo was to go with Leia’s group; in Vader’s words, they would be moving too quickly for a droid to keep up. 

_ I do not want to leave,  _ Artoo chirped to both of them--to Luke, but Vader was right there, and Artoo clearly knew it.  _ I must protect you.  _

_ From More Selfish Master Anakin,  _ Luke was sure Artoo wanted to say. 

“I’ll see you,” Luke promised him, though at the moment he didn’t feel too confident in such a promise. “And this way, at least you’ll get to see Threepio.” 

_ That is not a comfort,  _ Artoo shot back, then went off to find Leia. 

Sola didn’t say farewell. Not obviously. For the most part, she stayed close to Amil, still in pain from his wounds; but then, when the time came to leave, she turned around and stared directly at Luke. 

Luke couldn’t have guessed what that meant. 

The last order of business was to make sure that both groups were equipped with good weapons. Luke, Vader, and Aphra got the acid-blaster with more bullets; this meant that Leia’s group got Aphra’s Mandalorian weapon. 

“You have to pull back, then release,” Aphra instructed Leia; she seemed extremely anxious about giving her prized weapon to someone else to use. “Don’t have it primed all the time--it could go off if you touch it wrong. You hold it here, below the barrel, yank it back, then--”

_ “I get it!”  _ Leia snarled, and the conversation was over. 

Throughout the entire exchange, Luke had the constant feeling that Leia had something she needed to say to him; and he kept waiting, watching, for an opportunity. But Vader surely sensed this as well, and the entire time his hands remained on Luke’s shoulders. Luke couldn’t have gotten away if he’d wanted to. 

And he  _ did  _ want to. 

Then, everything was ready, and Leia and the Naberries left for the  _ Falcon.  _

_ Please,  _ Luke begged the Force,  _ please. Let me see her again, please...let her stay safe… _

Eventually they disappeared on the horizon, and finally,  _ finally,  _ Vader removed his hands from Luke’s shoulders and stepped away entirely. 

“We move out immediately,” Vader said in a low voice. “We are going after the Alpha. There will be no stopping, no rests; we have rested long enough. You will both listen to me, and do as  _ I  _ tell you.” 

Luke exchanged a nervous glance with Aphra. 

She wasn’t thrilled about it, either. 

But there was no arguing with that statement, so they both nodded; and then the group of three set out. 

  
  


At last, Luke was away from the Princess, away from the droid; Aphra could not have done anything against him. If not for the threat of the dragons, Vader could have almost been satisfied. 

But the dragon was a problem. 

Vader led them quickly, forcing himself not to think of Luke’s injury; the boy had grown more adept at controlling his pain. The more he was made to do it, the closer to the Dark Side he would get. 

_ Two and a half days.  _

_ I have two and a half days.  _

The Alpha’s trail was not easy to follow. Vader listened to the Force as much as he could, but the dragon’s signature was all over the place, confusing; and eventually, he had to admit that Aphra’s skills would be of use. 

“Doctor,” he said, and took pleasure in the way that she flinched. She was afraid of him still--good. But his son still looked tense, and that was  _ not  _ preferable. “Find the Alpha’s tracks.” 

“Uh, uh, sure,” Aphra said. She walked forward and began searching the ground.

“You didn’t need to be so worried about Leia,” came a voice at Vader’s side, and he realized Luke had spoken. He looked down. Luke’s arms were crossed, and he was staring straight ahead. 

“Do not presume to tell me what I should have done,” Vader reprimanded him. “I will be taking you with me, and she presented a danger to that goal.” 

“A--!” Luke sputtered, and finally turned to look up at him. “For all you know, she just wanted to talk privately with me about things we enjoy! Catch up with me! You know, like a friend. Oh, except you don’t know, because I’m willing to bet you’ve never had any friends.” 

Once again, Luke assumed  _ too much.  _ This willful disrespect would  _ have  _ to be curtailed. 

“I have told you,  _ young one,”  _ Vader hissed at him, “not to  _ presume.”  _

Luke took a step backward; there was fear in his eyes. Vader forced himself to be calm. 

“Oh,” Luke said. “So...you have had friends?”

Vader stared at him. One moment he was stubborn, the next terrified, the next...curious. What did he mean? Was Luke trying to get something out of him? What--

Oh. 

He was trying to find out more about Vader’s past. 

_ Do not tell him,  _ demanded a voice in his head.  _ You cannot tell him! Anakin is dead! You must not acknowledge Anakin.  _

But for the first time in twenty-two years, that voice...was easy to ignore. 

_ Even if it is the only way to make Luke listen to me?  _

The voice was silent. 

“I...would not call them friends,” Vader said, taking care not to reveal too much, not to admit too much. “But there was once...someone...whom I collaborated well with. She and I worked well together.” 

Yes, that was what it had been. The bond between a master and an apprentice. 

No more. Already, the memories were starting to assault him, to push past the carefully erected walls--

But it was worth it. Instantly, Luke’s eyes blew wide. 

“Really?” he gasped, and that...that was hope, on his face; and it brought hope to Vader, in that moment. “What...where is she now? What happened to her?”

Vader turned away. This had been a mistake; he could not think about it. 

“She is dead,” he said shortly, then followed after Aphra. 

Immediately, there was a multitude of emotions from Luke; but Vader ignored all of them. He could not bear to think of it, to think of Ahsoka, of what  he had done to her  she had done to him…

But there was a small part of him that was glad. 

It...had given Luke something. 

_ Perhaps now...now he will love me… _

_ How could he love  _ you?  _ Why would he? You have never given him a reason. He is too innocent. Besides, you do not need love. You simply need devotion. Allegiance. He must be  _ loyal. 

There was no place for love in the Dark Side. Vader knew that. Love, in the end, had been worthless. 

All who had loved him had been taken from him, until there was only anger left. That was all there could be. 

_ But do I want that for Luke?  _

_ Yes. Yes, it is the only way.  _

“Whoo!” came a shout from far ahead; Aphra, of course. Her time was coming. “Hey, I found the trail!” 

“Then,” Vader snapped once he had caught up with her, “you would do well not to  _ shout in the middle of the jungle.”  _

“Oops,” Aphra said with a grimace. “But, uh...she’s this way. Follow me.” 

Vader was distinctly uncomfortable with the idea of following  _ Aphra,  _ but he had no choice. And besides, he had to admit that she’d done her job well. 

“So,” Aphra said after a few minutes, “what’s happening after we kill the dragon? You taking him back to your ship, or something?”

“Or something,” he echoed distastefully. “Yes. And I do not see why it is any concern of yours. I do not wish to be around you longer than necessary.” 

“Well, the feeling’s, uh, mutual,” Aphra said. “Trust me. But I can’t help wondering--”

Vader braced himself. 

“What are you  _ doing  _ with him, exactly?”

Luke tensed beside him. And that, Vader realized, was exactly what his son feared. He had been wondering this, clearly, for three and a half days. 

“You do not need to know that,” Vader snarled at her. “That is not your business, and if you wish to keep your  _ life--” _

“What if I want to know?” 

Luke’s voice sounded small, timid, and Vader stopped in his tracks. This--this was what he did not want to think about. He wanted Luke’s loyalty, his allegiance. And yet...and yet…

_ I do not want my son to fear me.  _

_ I do not want my son to be afraid  _ **_at all._ **

_ Fear leads to the Dark Side-- _

“I will tell  _ you  _ later,” Vader told him, then continued walking; his anger was already on the rise. Anything more, and it would explode. “For now, I do not see how this relates to our current mission.” 

Fortunately, there was no response from either Luke or Aphra. 

They continued in peaceful silence. 

Several hours went by, and they did not find the Alpha. She had clearly traveled far in a short time--she was on the hunt. Thankfully, her steps seemed to be taking her  _ away  _ and not  _ towards  _ them. 

Of course, that meant that it would be much, much harder to find her. 

Vader could sense Luke’s growing exhaustion, probably caused by the injury to his leg; but for now he must ignore it. He could not get his son off the planet without killing the Alpha. That goal was the only thing on his mind, even as the jungle drew on…

Then, without warning, his comlink rang. 

Irritated, Vader took it out and checked the number--

Admiral Piett. 

He had  _ ordered  _ Piett not to call him, not to notify him of anything...unless it was an absolute emergency. 

“We will halt here,” he said, and Luke immediately sank to his knees. “I must take this message. Do not do  _ anything.”  _

Then, Vader moved quickly into the trees, making sure to take himself far out of earshot, before answering. 

“What is it?” he demanded. “I ordered you--”

“Lord Vader,” came Piett’s voice, and the Admiral had the  _ audacity  _ to cut him off. “It’s the Emperor.” 

Vader froze. 

He had not felt fear,  _ real  _ fear, in many years. There had been no room for it. But now...now he felt it in full, felt it as he’d never felt it before. 

The Emperor knew. On  _ some level,  _ he knew--

_ You must protect your son.  _

_ The Emperor will kill him if he stays a Jedi.  _

_ Luke must turn.  _

_ Two and a half days-- _

“Lord Vader?” Piett said shakily. Vader realized he had not responded. 

Vader clenched his fists and let his fear turn to hot, burning anger. Above all, Luke would not die. 

“I am listening,” he growled. 

  
  


The second Vader disappeared, Aphra turned to Luke. 

“So,” she said. “What’s he gonna do with you?”

Luke closed his eyes, breathed through his teeth, and tried not to get angry. 

“Don’t ask me that,” he said tightly. “I can’t--I don’t know--”

“Listen, I’m gonna cut to the chase.” Aphra sighed. “I’ve been noticing some things, over the last few days--”

“Yeah,” Luke said tiredly, “there’s been a lot of things going on--”

“--and it’s pretty obvious that you’re not just some ordinary Imperial prisoner. Vader wants you for some  _ personal  _ reason.” 

Luke’s insides froze. 

“Oh, uh,” he stammered, “w-what makes you say that?”

Aphra rolled her eyes. 

“Your bad attempt at lying just proved I’m right,” she said. “And I get that it’s probably rooted in something traumatizing, but you can tell me!” 

Luke’s leg was in pain, but he stood up. 

“No,” he said quietly. “I can’t.” 

Vader had thrown her out the airlock, he was the reason she had nightmares--

She would hate Luke. 

And suddenly, in that moment, Luke realized Aphra was his friend. She was his friend, he cared about her...and he did not want her to hate him. 

“Well, it’s probably just something to do with the Force,” Aphra said--she was taking this  _ way too lightly.  _ “Something I don’t understand--”

“No, it’s not that.” Luke twisted his hands in his jacket to keep them from shaking. “It’s not just the Force, Aphra. It is so,  _ so  _ much more complicated than you think, it’s way worse than you’re thinking, and  _ I can’t tell you!” _

“Well, why?” Aphra demanded. “The first day I dumped all my trauma on you. I don’t know, I thought we could relate or something. I never do that, Luke. Never. And now Pandaki’s dead, and you could at least give me  _ something--” _

“Aphra, I don’t want you to hate me!” 

The words were out before Luke could stop them; abruptly, it occurred to him that maybe he shouldn’t have said that, that he had quite possibly given Aphra far more clues than she would have gotten on her own. 

_ Shit.  _

_ What have I done?  _

“What?” Aphra’s voice was shrill. “Luke, why...why would I hate you?” She shook her head. “I mean, you’re annoying. It’s not like you’re my  _ friend  _ or anything. You’re stupidly, stupidly naive sometimes, but--”

“Oh, suck it up,” Luke said wearily, and leaned back against the tree. “You’re my friend, Aphra, just accept it.” 

“Well, then--well--then that just proves my point. Why would I hate you?” Aphra crossed her arms. “You’re annoyingly impossible to hate. Trust me. I’ve tried.” 

“Because--because--” Frustrated and terrified, Luke clutched at his hair. “I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I--”

To his surprise, Aphra put a hand on his arm. 

“It’s okay,” she said quietly. “You don’t have to.” 

That made it worse; Luke turned away. 

Now he wanted to tell her more than anything. 

He wanted to tell  _ someone.  _ He wanted to  _ talk about it,  _ with anyone, anyone other than...well. Than Vader himself.  _ That  _ was a horrifying thought. 

No. He had to talk to someone who actually cared about him. 

He had to get it out there--

But Aphra clearly cared about him now. She had, grudgingly, admitted they were friends...so, despite her understanding, if he told her…

“Thanks,” he said, kicking the dirt with his good leg. “That...that means a lot.” 

Aphra grinned. “Of course it does. I give great pep talks.” 

Luke rolled his eyes. “Sure you do.”

It had been a while, he realized, since Vader had shown up; where was he? What was going on? 

He looked over his shoulder. There was no sign of him. 

He looked back at Aphra.

And then, with a roar, the Greater krayt’s head burst through the branches in front of them. 

Luke stared, frozen in horror, as the mouth gaped wide at them, as the thick, black tongue flicked in and out. Aphra gasped, and then Luke felt her start to reach for her weapon--

“Don’t,” he hissed out of the corner of his mouth. “Don’t move.” 

Slowly, Aphra let her hand drop. 

And they stood there, utterly motionless. Luke stared at the beady eyes; the eyes stared back at him. He didn’t move. 

After several seconds, the head disappeared behind the trees. 

But it did not go away. 

The eyes continued to stare at them, as if confused; Luke couldn’t tell what was going on. It was strange. The creature was behaving in a way that was slightly...off from what he’d seen before. 

“What’s it doing?” he whispered. “What’s she doing?”

“I don’t know,” Aphra whispered back. “Usually they just go on the attack--but she’s confused, I don’t--”

The Greater krayt sniffed. 

What was she doing? Luke concentrated on remaining still, as absolutely still as possible. 

Then, from through the branches, Luke saw the jaws open, and the tongue slid out. It was long, with a forked indentation like a snake, and was able to reach all the way through the trees. Slowly, moving deliberately, Luke and Aphra edged back. 

The tongue kept moving--it was the krayt’s way of smelling in its confused state, Luke realized, smelling for life--slapped wetly against the tree to Aphra’s right, then moved down. The tip curled around the branches, then against Aphra’s legs--

“No,” she gasped, “no, no--”

“Don’t move,” Luke whispered. “Please--”

He didn’t know what to do. He had no idea what to do, he’d never expected this--he couldn’t imagine how to use the Force in a way that wouldn’t bring attention to them--

The tongue stopped briefly, over Aphra’s arm, then dragging along Luke’s shoulder--

He fought against panic-- _ don’t move-- _

Moving along his neck, and then finally curling around his head. 

Luke squeezed his eyes shut against the slimy muscle, tried to hold his breath, tried to keep from screaming. Maybe it wouldn’t do anything--

And then, Luke felt his legs moving, and slowly the realization pierced through his terrified mind that he was being dragged towards the open jaws. 

“Luke,” he heard Aphra gasp, dimly, through the weight of the dragon’s tongue. 

Luke couldn’t answer; his mouth was covered by the flat tongue and he didn’t even want to think about opening it. Slowly, through the panic, he tried to breathe, to think--

_ What in the hell am I supposed to do?  _

The tongue kept dragging him, Luke felt the hot breath on his legs--the dragon had him. The dragon had decided he was worth eating; and then he gave up the decision not to move because  _ this thing was going to eat him,  _ and desperately he brought his hands up to try to push the tongue up, try to slip away. He couldn’t. It was too thick, too heavy, and he couldn’t budge it--

_ You don’t want to eat me,  _ he thought at the monster desperately,  _ you don’t want to eat me, you want to let me go-- _

He was terrified. Nothing happened. 

He could feel saliva on his legs. 

He could feel branches brushing against his arms. 

“Luke!” 

_ Please--please, please, please, someone help-- _

Abruptly, the tongue uncoiled from Luke’s head; he felt it slip off his face, and felt simultaneous relief at being free and disgust at the feeling of the saliva coating his entire head. Gasping, he stumbled backwards; a hand steadied him, and he turned to see Aphra there. 

“What--” he gasped, and almost threw up at the sensation of slime spraying off his mouth. Nope. No talking yet.   


“It’s...weak,” Aphra said. “I can see it stumbling away…” Then she laughed nervously. “I think it’s Amil’s tranquilizer. I think it worked!” 

Luke couldn’t bring himself to celebrate with her. At the moment, all he was trying to do was wipe his face with his jacket, get that disgusting stuff off of him and try not to start screaming. It had--he’d been so close--he’d almost been--

Vaguely, Luke felt a new sensation: of a dark presence that blotted out everything else, and durasteel around his biceps. 

_ “Luke,”  _ he heard, and dimly registered that it was Darth Vader speaking, and also that it was about the fourth time the Sith Lord had said his name. 

He blinked, stuttered something; he didn’t hear what it was. 

_ “Are you all right?”  _ Vader demanded, his voice dark with rage; at the dragon, Luke realized. He was angry at the dragon for almost killing Luke, and then--then Luke realized he had never felt Vader  _ this angry  _ before. 

Never. 

“Y...yes,” Luke stammered, though he really didn’t feel it. He was shaking all over, and he wanted to scream, or sob, or both. “It...it went away. It’s unconscious, or something--”

“I will never leave you like that again,” Vader snarled, and the hands on his arms tightened. “You could have been  _ killed.”  _ He seemed to hesitate, then, before speaking again. “I--I will not lose you. I will  _ not.”  _

Luke gaped. 

Vader...had he really…

He was  _ that worried.  _

_ He was actually worried.  _

And now Luke was overcome by a third desire: the need to smile more than he’d smiled in his life. Because this was proof of what he’d wanted this whole time. This was it. His father cared, more than anything, as was evident by the anger he was expressing now--

His father, quite possibly, even loved him. 

“Holy  _ shit.”  _

At once, Luke was broken out of his giddiness. 

_ Aphra.  _

She was standing slightly to Vader’s left, and she looked more shocked than Luke had ever seen her. 

“You’re--you--he--” Aphra pointed almost senselessly between them. “I don’t believe this.” She stared at Luke. “You’re his  _ son,  _ aren’t you?” 


	38. Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Group deals with the fallout of Aphra figuring out the truth.

Ten seconds ago, Darth Vader had been ready to hunt down the dragon that had nearly killed his son. It was all that had been on his mind; he had hardly been thinking at all, beyond an intense need to make sure that Luke was all right, that Luke hadn’t been hurt--and now that he knew that, he had been ready to hunt down the dragon and tear it to shreds. 

He _had_ been. 

Now, there was only the matter of what Aphra had just said. _You’re his son,_ she had said to Luke. Which was the truth, which he wanted the entire galaxy to know--but _not before he got Luke off Felucia--_ because then it would get out, because Palpatine was already onto him, because Palpatine would know he had found his son and would begin to plan accordingly--

No. 

No one could know. 

Least of all _Chelli Lona Aphra._

Luke was frozen, absolutely still; he looked horrified. He had not wanted anyone to know, either. It was most likely for a different reason...but nonetheless, he was just as shocked as Vader felt. 

Slowly, very slowly, Vader let go of Luke and turned around. 

_“What?”_ he demanded. 

“It took me a while to figure it out,” Aphra said--she was _grinning._ “I certainly have been thinking the way you two interact with each other is weird; but just now, the way you were acting so protective of him, so worried...it was the first time I’d made the comparison, but that was exactly how my mother used to react when I got hurt.” 

Vader stared. For once, he had no words, no threats to give her. 

“Aphra,” Luke gasped, rubbing furiously at his face, “Aphra--stop--”

“And then I remembered that first day at the hospital, Luke,” Aphra went on happily, ignoring her _friend_ completely, “when I told you all about my selfish asshole of a dad, who always prioritized himself before me, yada, yada, and you said you knew exactly what I meant.” 

_Prioritized himself before me._

Vader’s thoughts ground to a halt. 

He should not have been surprised by that; the way of the Sith was selfishness. But...but Luke was his son…

Only now did Vader understand how Luke truly despised him. 

But did he? Did he, after almost four days? This had been the first day, as Aphra claimed; in the time since, Luke had temporarily agreed to go willingly with his father. He had tried to find out more about him, to...to understand him. 

Maybe Luke didn’t hate him, after all. 

Slowly, Vader turned to look at his son. The boy was staring directly at Aphra...and he looked absolutely miserable. His shoulders were tensed, his posture tight; and ultimately, Vader could sense that Luke was afraid. 

Afraid that his father would _harm_ him, for what Aphra had revealed. 

_I will not,_ Vader thought. _I will not hurt you._

But he could not bring himself to open the thought to Luke. There was no telling how his son would react. 

“I...remember,” Luke said in a small voice; his face was mostly clear now, but the small flecks of dragon saliva that fell from his hair still threaten to fill Vader with an insatiable rage.

_Focus. Focus._

_Do not harm your son._

_He will never join you otherwise._

“And then he started hovering over you,” Aphra went on, beginning to pace like...like a _schoolteacher_ giving a _lecture._ “And I thought, maybe he just really doesn’t want you to escape; but the question was, why? So I thought about it. I talked to Leia about it; she’s pretty smart.” 

At the mention of the Princess, Vader’s anger soared again. 

“Get to the _point,”_ he growled. 

“So,” she prattled on, “then I started asking questions, neither of you wanted to talk--so when you left, then I got things out of Luke.” 

He should have known. He should never have left Luke, for a _multitude_ of reasons.

“It’s--Aphra, stop,” Luke pleaded; he must have told her something very personal, and Vader suddenly wanted to know what it had been. “It’s okay. Stop there.” 

Vader took a step forward, putting Luke behind him. 

“What,” he said, “did he tell you.” 

Aphra, for the first time since she’d figured out the truth, looked frightened. 

“Um,” she said. “He...he didn’t want to tell me. Well, I could tell he needed to, but he didn’t want to--”

_“Tell me.”_

“He said I’d hate him if I knew the truth, okay?”

Somehow, things had gotten even worse. 

It was another thing that Vader should have seen, should have understood...but now that he had heard it…

Of course Luke would be afraid of his friends hating him. They all despised Vader.

 _Why do you care? Why do you_ care? _Hatred is useful._

_Not if it draws my son away from me._

He was starting to care too much. That was growing obvious; Luke was starting to change him. 

No, _no--_ that would ruin everything. _He_ was supposed to change _Luke,_ not the other way around. But the only way to do that was to open himself up, to stop his son’s fear…

And now Luke was afraid of him again. Vader could see that. 

It was Aphra’s fault, all her fault. Before she had figured out the truth, Luke had been asking him questions, had been speaking to him casually. 

Now he was withdrawn again. Terrified. 

It was Aphra’s fault. 

She was turning Luke against him, pulling Luke away from him--but more than that, she was a loose cannon. She _knew the truth._

“You must swear,” Vader said in a low voice, “you _must swear,_ on your _life,_ that you will never tell anyone of this truth that you have learned.” 

Aphra blinked, as if she’d never thought about that until now. 

“Tell anyone?” she repeated. “Why...I’d have thought you’d want everyone to know, wouldn’t you? ‘Join me and rule the galaxy,’ or something, right?”

Vader clenched his fists. 

“Don’t,” Luke said, limping forward to stand between him and Aphra. “Please, Aphra, just promise you won’t tell anyone. He’s...he…” He turned around to look at Vader, wariness in his eyes. “I don’t know why, but for now he doesn’t want anyone to know. So just--please--”

“Stop being afraid of him,” Aphra snapped, pushing Luke back. “Vader’s made it business to push everyone around the whole time we’ve been here, _especially_ you...and me. Well, I’m done. I mean, I don’t see the whole point in telling anyone to begin with, but I’m not promising _anything._ I’m not letting him demand anything of me anymore, and you shouldn’t either; he might be your father, but that doesn’t mean you’re his _slave_ or anything--”

Vader ceased to hear anything else. There was only a roaring in his ears. 

_His slave._

_Won’t promise anything._

_Luke is not my SLAVE--_

_Luke is in danger--_

_Aphra has not promised, she knows--_

_Palpatine will know--_

_LUKE IS IN DANGER--_

And that was when Vader realized what was so wrong about how he had been acting, how he had been thinking; he had been so focused on getting Luke to open himself up to him, to trust him, that he had lost sight of his goal: to turn Luke. To make sure he understood the consequences of his mistakes. 

To make sure he knew that if he could not protect the ones he loved, they would die. 

Luke must turn. It was the only way he could be saved. It would be additionally good if he would trust Vader, but if he did not...then Luke would have to learn the hard way. 

Luke would have to rely, solely, on his father. Not on his friends. 

On the _Dark Side._

Vader was furious. Vader was _beyond_ furious. 

But for the first time in four days, he saw more clearly than he had seen before. 

He came out of the haze of fury to Luke and Aphra arguing. 

“--don’t,” Luke was saying, “you can’t-- _I can’t--”_

“Well, I don’t hate you,” Aphra shot back. “I know the truth, and I don’t hate you--so if the information gets out, then no one else will, either! They can help you, Luke!” 

“Really?” Luke asked, his voice soft. Like he’d seen hope. 

Vader barely registered it. 

“I can still barely believe it,” Aphra snorted. “But trust me. I don’t hate you.” 

“You will,” Vader said, stepping forward, “when I am through with you.” 

And, so saying, he reached out a hand and extended the Force toward Doctor Aphra.

  
  


The journey to the _Falcon_ was filled with anxiety and tension, but not once did they see a dragon. That was odd in itself. 

The morning passed quickly, in a feverish haze--Amil was injured and growing weaker, so they had to move slowly; and Leia was constantly looking over her shoulder, constantly checking the two weapons, constantly aware of what was around them and where, exactly, they were. It was true that they were traveling in the day, when the dragons would be sleeping; but still she did not stop worrying. They had a child and an injured man in their party--if they were attacked, it would _not_ go well. 

It had been utter selfishness on Vader’s part not to send Luke with him, and they had both known it. 

_I’ll see Luke again,_ Leia told herself; the thought got her through the day. She tried to picture Luke’s face, tried to picture him happy and smiling. _I’ll see Luke. I’ll see Luke. I’ll see him._

Throughout the morning, no one spoke. No one said anything. They traveled slowly, but they did not stop; and Leia did not stop being afraid. 

And then, finally, the sun was high in the sky, and they were all hungry. 

“We’ll stop here,” Sola said, and promptly sat down under the shade of a tree. 

Leia frowned; she’d barely had any sleep, so that was probably affecting her ability to make good decisions, but she knew they weren’t at the _Falcon_ yet. 

“Are you sure?” she asked. “The dragons--”

Then her eyes fell on Amil. He was leaning next to Sola, his eyes closed; he looked like he was in pain. 

“All right,” Leia said. “We’ll take a short break for lunch.” 

Sola smiled graciously. “I have some food with me. I’ll get it ready.” 

_I am worried about Master Luke._

Leia looked down. Artoo was standing there, looking mournfully up at her. He missed Luke, too. 

“He’s all right,” she said softly. “He’s got Aphra with him, and he’s tough. He can make it.” 

_But when he has been in trouble before, I have always been there._

Leia’s heart twisted. Until Bespin, that’s what she would have said, too. And Luke _was_ tough, but at the same time...she didn’t want to see him go through what he’d gone through at Bespin. She _hated_ to see him hurting at all, to see him in pain…

“Hey,” came a voice at Leia’s side, and she almost jumped--but it was only Sola’s daughter, Ruya. “How do you know Luke?”

Leia stared at her. She was a child, and there was...there was almost something familiar about her. 

“How do _you_ know Luke?” she shot back. 

But Ruya was indomitable. “You didn’t answer the question.” 

Leia sighed. “We’ve known each other for a long time. Luke’s helped me on a number of missions, but beyond that he’s...a good friend. We...we go way back.” 

For some reason, it felt good to say that. Leia didn’t know why, but it did. 

“Well, okay,” Ruya said. “I only met him a few days ago, but he’s really cool. He helped me fight dragons. And then I--”

“You ran away,” Leia finished for her; she remembered now. “I’ve heard that already.” She crossed her arms. “You know, that wasn’t a very nice thing for you to do.” 

“Yeah, it was,” Ruya said. “Luke needed my help.” 

Leia’s gut twisted. That reminded her of Luke himself. 

“But are you sure?” Ruya asked, her voice quieter. “Are you sure Luke’s gonna be okay? He’s with...he’s with _Darth Vader.”_

“He is,” Leia said carefully. “But like I told the droid here, Luke is very tough, and he’s resourceful. He’ll do all right.” She forced a smile; Ruya clearly believed in Luke, and she wasn’t going to ruin that. Luke was someone who was easy to believe in. “I promise.” 

“Okay!” Ruya seemed satisfied with that, and turned to look at Artoo. “Can I touch him?”

Ruya had switched tracks so fast, Leia didn’t know what to say. 

“Uh...sure,” she said hesitantly. “But be careful.”

 _Be careful,_ Artoo told her, and his tone was actually snarky. _I’m a decorated war veteran._

“I think lunch is ready,” Sola said from across the clearing. 

“Watch your mouth,” Leia said. She gestured to Ruya. “Come on, let’s eat.” 

  
  
  


Luke was confused. He didn’t know exactly _what_ was happening, but for some reason, Vader was furious. It was something Aphra had said, and he’d tried to stop her; but he didn’t think it had been too terrible. 

But then he sensed the _resolve_ from Vader, and he started to fear. 

“Hey,” he said as Vader raised his arm. “Hey, what--what are you doing?”

Vader didn’t answer. He didn’t even turn his head to look at Luke. Instead, Luke’s sense of the Dark Side only grew stronger. 

And then, approximately a second later, Aphra gasped for breath. 

In a wave of horror, it hit Luke: _Vader was choking her._ He’d completely lost his temper, he was killing her, killing her _very slowly--_

“No!” Luke shouted. 

“Stay back,” Vader snarled at him. “You do not need her. She cannot help you.” 

There was a choking sound. Helplessly, Luke looked at Aphra; dangling in midair, she met his eyes. 

She was _terrified._

 _Help,_ she seemed to be saying, _help me._

_Stop being afraid of him._

Luke clenched his fists. Aphra was right. Vader was wrong--he did need his friends. And more than that, they needed him. 

Aphra needed him. 

“Stop it!” Luke shouted. _“Stop it!”_

Vader didn’t even look at him. 

Gritting his teeth, Luke ran forward, ignoring the pain that threatened to make his world go red, and _shoved_ Vader, tried to distract him in any way. He didn’t budge, but Luke tried again--

Quickly, Vader’s left hand came up and pushed Luke in the chest, _hard._ Luke fell onto his backside and was left winded; his leg burned. 

Aphra continued choking. 

With a yell, Luke threw himself up and at Vader--and again, he was knocked down. And then again. And again. And again. It seemed to take hardly any effort on his part; and all the while, he never released Aphra. 

The fourth time, Luke’s leg twinged badly, and he cried out in pain. 

_“Stay down,”_ Vader ordered him. 

“He-e-lp,” Aphra managed to gasp out. “Luke--h--”

Then her words were cut off. 

And still Vader continued to kill her slowly--to _torture_ her--without mercy-- _his friend--_

Ignoring the pain in his leg, Luke dragged himself up to his knees and looked up. There was such agony on Aphra’s face, such _terror--_ and he couldn’t do anything about it. 

Tears streamed down his face. 

“Father,” he sobbed--maybe that would do something. “Father... _please--”_

Vader ignored him. Aphra’s hands scrabbled desperately at her neck; she kicked her legs in midair. 

“FATHER!” Luke screamed. 

There was a _moment_ of hesitation, where Luke _felt_ the grip on Aphra loosen slightly…

Then she gasped again. 

“This is the will of the Force,” Vader said, and the _hatred_ in his voice made Luke freeze. “She will die, and you _cannot stop it._ ” 

_Yes, I can,_ Luke thought fiercely, and ran at him again. 

Vader backhanded him across the face. 

For several seconds, hot, blinding pain was all Luke could feel; his face felt like it was on fire. Then he felt himself slam into the ground, and slowly became aware of what was going on. And what had happened. 

Vader had... _his father_ had actually _struck_ him. 

Which was not as terrible as throwing multiple objects at him and cutting off his hand, but within the context, it was somehow worse. Especially...especially since Vader had continued to tell Luke he wouldn’t be harmed…

His father didn’t care about him. Of course he didn’t. 

Why had Luke been so stupid as to think he did? 

Vader had drawn him in, tempted him with the Dark Side, with the promise of _bonding,_ and Luke had fallen for it. 

And now he was killing Luke’s friend. He was killing Aphra.

She was almost unconscious; Luke could sense it, as clearly as he’d ever sensed anything in the Force. And now, close to death, she was still terrified. She _did not want_ to die this way.

Blood trickling down his cheek, Luke ignored the spinning of his head and forced himself into a sitting position. Then he stared. 

The image he was met with was horrifying, something out of a nightmare: Darth Vader, his _father,_ standing there like an unmovable storm cloud, one hand outstretched...toward Aphra, whose face was starting to turn an unnatural color, whose eyes were wide with fear, whose mouth and nose were beginning to trickle blood…

Vader had sworn. Luke had made him promise that none of his friends would be hurt--

He was a _Sith Lord._ What _else_ had Luke expected? 

Sudden, unexplainable rage took him, wiped out everything else. Where for a moment there had been desperation, fear, now there was only anger...anger, and a burning need to _save Aphra._

_I have to stop him--I have to stop him--_

Luke clenched his fists...and suddenly he could move, suddenly he could stand on his injured leg and feel no pain. He saw everything clearly; for the first time since Bespin, he had absolute, unwavering focus in the Force. 

As Luke stood up, Vader didn’t notice. He was a terrifying creature of rage in the Force...but Luke was more terrifying. 

Aphra’s hands went limp. 

**_No._ **

With a shout that didn’t seem to belong to him, Luke threw out his hands. He didn’t know what he did; he only felt the rush of raw power flow him, and the need to save Aphra. 

There was an explosion, in the Force. Luke was thrown backward onto the ground. 

When his vision cleared, he saw a sight that simultaneously thrilled and horrified him: Aphra was free, _alive,_ but clearly unconscious, lying on the ground...and in the distance there was a black figure also on the ground. Unmoving. 

Vader. 

What...what had happened? 

Confused, Luke looked around, finding Aphra, finding Vader again--and then, suddenly, he felt weak. The rush of power was receding from him--

The power was receding, the anger, the--

_The Dark Side._

He--he’d used--

He’d used the Dark Side to save Aphra. 

Horrified, Luke looked down at his hands, half expecting them to be covered in blood; they were fine, if a bit slimy and smeared with dirt. 

That didn’t make it any better. 

Slowly, Luke looked across the clearing. So far Vader hadn’t moved. He could feel him alive, so he clearly hadn’t killed him; he figured it would take a lot more to do that. And he’d at least saved Aphra. 

But he had only been able to do it by using the Dark Side. 

Luke could feel himself shaking. He had always sworn he could never do that, that he was _not_ like Vader...but all it had taken was the slightest push, and he’d used his anger. He’d been almost blinded by it; he’d thought he was thinking clearly, but really...really, he had just been letting his anger rule him. 

But hadn’t he been right? 

Hadn’t he been _right_ to do that, just to save Aphra? 

One glance at Vader told him the answer: _no._ Because Luke was beginning to suspect that _he_ was the reason the Sith Lord had gotten so angry, that it had been on his behalf...but that still hadn’t made almost killing Aphra right. 

Aphra, who still hadn’t moved. 

That, more than anything, made Luke decide to get up. The pain in his leg had returned, stronger than ever; red lanced through his vision, and he realized it must have been injured _worse_ when Vader threw him across the jungle. But Aphra needed him. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he dragged himself to his feet and slowly limped across the distance to his friend. 

  
  


Luke had used the Dark Side. 

That was the first thought to cross Vader’s mind as he regained consciousness; he remembered the dark tendrils reaching out, remembered the feeling of his son reaching his full potential and hurling the Dark Side at him. 

His son...was _powerful._

That said, he hadn’t had to go quite that far. Nevertheless, it had happened at last; Luke had tapped into the Dark Side without hesitation. Vader had intended to kill Aphra--it was long past her time, and her new knowledge would endanger them--but if the doctor remaining alive caused Luke to turn...then so be it. 

Slowly, Vader sat up, checking to make sure his limbs were still in working order; they were. Then he stood up, and took in the sight of Luke helping Aphra to her feet. 

Luke whipped his head suddenly to look, fear flashed in his eyes; there was a faint bruise on his right cheek. How had…

Horror pooled in Vader’s stomach. He had actually struck his son. 

He remembered now; he remembered feeling nothing but the need to kill Aphra, feeling rage, becoming more, and more, and more furious as Luke tried to stop him...and eventually, he’d lashed out. 

He had just sworn that he would never hurt Luke. He had sworn that Luke would be safe. 

And then…

“Go!” Luke told Aphra, who was leaning on him to stand. “Get out of here!” 

Aphra looked horrible, but at the word from Luke she turned and stumbled away, as fast as she could go. 

That left Vader with his son. It was all he’d ever wanted since running into Ruya.

“Luke,” he said, starting to approach him. 

Instantly, terror flashed through Luke’s eyes, and he stumbled backwards, tripped and went down; then, his leg shaking, he got back up again, seeming determined to put as much distance between himself and Vader as he could. 

Just like Bespin. 

It was like no time had passed; in Luke’s eyes, he was the enemy. 

_No. No, no--_

He had made a terrible mistake. 

“Luke, listen to me,” Vader tried again, but Luke moved even farther away; the look in his eyes resembled that of a cornered animal. 

“Get away!” he cried, his voice cracking on the last syllable. “Don’t touch me!” 

Vader stopped where he was. What had he done? Luke was terrified of him, Luke was shaking--hurt, afraid--

_Good. He should be afraid of you._

_Not if I want to keep him alive!_

“Luke, I--” Sith did not apologize. “I should not have struck you.” 

“Well, you _did,”_ Luke said, his voice trembling; he crossed his arms over his chest. “But that’s--that’s not the problem, you--” His voice dropped to a whisper. “ _You were going to kill my friend.”_

That was right. He had been about to kill Aphra. He had planned on it. 

The problem was...Vader could not see anything distinctly wrong with it. Not for him, at least. With Aphra dead, Luke would be free of her influence, and _he_ would be free of how she constantly seemed to be trying to make his life harder. 

But this had not facilitated the turn to the Dark Side that he had hoped for. 

This had made Luke angry...at _him._

And, worst of all, it had made Luke _afraid_ of him. Killing Aphra would have been preferable; but the fact that Vader could only vaguely remember what he had done while in his rage was...concerning. 

It meant...it meant…

He did not know what it meant. But he had hurt Luke. He had hurt his son. 

He was supposed to _save_ his son. 

And now, Aphra was gone, and Luke was shaking like a leaf and continuing to move away from him. 

How was he supposed to _fix this?_

Vader was _not_ good with words. 

“Luke,” he tried, stepping forward again; Luke took another step back. “Luke, it was only meant for you. She would have _endangered_ us.” He clenched his fists. “Palpatine would have discovered that I had found you, had she told anyone.” 

“But she hadn’t said that she would!” Luke threw his hands in the air. “She didn’t say anything.” 

Vader crossed his arms; he did _not_ need a reminder of that. “She refused to promise. She seemed to take _pride_ in this new knowledge of hers. I could not have been sure that she--”

“That’s no reason to kill her!” Luke burst out. “You were _suspicious_ and you went with _death?”_ He shook his head, taking several slow steps back--

_She shakes her head, as if she can’t believe it, and takes several slow steps back. Away from him. Like she’s afraid of him._

_“You’re breaking my heart, Anakin,” she says, her voice cracking._

_No. Not her. Everyone else can turn against him and he won’t care, but her--_

_“You’re going down a path I can’t follow--”_

_The rest of her words fall on deaf ears. All he sees, and hears, and knows is rage…_

“No,” Vader snarled, forgetting himself for a moment. “That was _not_ my only intent!”

“Then what was it?” Luke demanded. 

He could not tell Luke that Aphra had been the last threat to their relationship--that she had been taking Luke _away from him._

“That is none of your business,” Vader hissed. “But all you must know is that her life is _worthless,_ compared to yours. Your friends will give you nothing, Luke. _Nothing._ You _cannot_ rely on them, and that is the lesson I am trying to teach you.” 

“A _lesson?”_ Luke echoed, half incredulously. “This is a _lesson?_ No, it’s you being a selfish _monster,_ it’s--” His face crumpled. _“You’re my father,_ you--what did I do to get cursed with _you_ for a father?”

Those words _stung,_ more than anything else. Stabbed at him, straight to every thought and every need and every desire he’d felt for twenty-two years, and _especially_ since finding out Luke was his son--

 _We will rule the galaxy together,_ he had thought then. _My son will be by my side, a prince, as he was always meant to be._

And what had _changed_ since then? What had changed?

Well, Luke had rejected him, first of all. Luke had not _wanted_ him as a father. 

Just as he didn’t want him now. 

Cursed. 

_Cursed._

And then, of course, there was Palpatine’s demand: the demand that Luke must be turned to the Dark Side, or he would die. Luke had to be with Vader. For that to happen, he must turn, or he would be killed. 

Thanks to Vader’s _failure_ on Bespin, that was how it must be. 

“Luke, you do not understand,” he said, and he _hated_ his suit for how it made him sound, so harsh and cruel and demanding. “The Emperor has ordered--he has told me that you--”

“I don’t care,” Luke said, edging back even further; he looked so _miserable,_ arms trembling, his bad leg shaking, his face smeared with blood and dirt and _that horrible bruise,_ but Vader...he did not know what to do about it. What _could_ he do about it? “I shouldn’t be surprised--I shouldn’t be shocked but I _am,_ because for a minute I actually thought you could be a _good person!_ That...that maybe I wasn’t doomed to be…” 

He trailed off. 

A Sith, he was about to say. He _was_ meant to be a Sith. It was the only way to save him. 

But then why, in this moment of moments, did he not want that? 

Luke was moving, he realized. 

Luke was walking away, away from him--

“NO!” he shouted--he _roared,_ in his desperation. “You cannot leave!” 

Luke froze, spun around; his eyes were blown wide in terror. He thought that Vader was going to hurt him, again. 

Vader reached for him, to do...something. 

Luke lurched backwards. 

“No,” he gasped--in pain, his leg must be in pain from running. “I-I-I told you not to touch me!” 

Abruptly, Vader removed his hand. He didn’t know what he’d been _trying_ to do, anyway. 

All he knew was he wanted--he _needed_ Luke with him. They had to kill the dragon, then leave. Kill the dragon...then leave…

He wanted to leave now. He wanted nothing more than to seize Luke and drag him with him, never let him go until he had him on the _Executor,_ safe--

But how was he going to turn? 

No. No, _he must._ There was no other choice. 

“Luke, I know you do not understand,” Vader growled at him. “But I will tell you this now. If you do not turn to the Dark Side, _then your life will be forfeit.”_

“You don’t care about my life, anyway,” Luke snapped; there were tears on his face, Vader noticed. Just like before. “You’ve never cared about me! So why should I give a damn what you think _now?”_

Luke hadn’t said it, but Vader could sense it; it was the same as on Bespin. He would rather die than follow his father into the Dark. 

“ENOUGH!” he roared, more at the implication of Luke’s jumbled thoughts than anything else. The Dark Side coiled around him, powerful, reaching out in a maelstrom of rage--squeezing--

Luke turned and ran. 

He was limping, hobbling, he was very obviously in pain, but he ran; he leaped over rocks and bushes and disappeared into the jungle in just a few seconds. Terror followed him--terror was all Vader could feel from him. 

“No,” he whispered, then hurried after Luke. He did not need to nimbly leap over objects like Luke; he knocked them out of the way, with the Force, and with his own strength, turning himself fully over to the Dark Side in order to pursue his son. Nothing could stop him. Nothing. He was a Sith Lord, the most powerful Force user to have ever existed; he would find Luke, and Luke could not resist him. 

Except that he did not find Luke. 

After a while--he did not know how long exactly it was--it became clear that Vader would not find him. That he was nowhere to be found, at least in the immediate future; he had muted his Force presence, spread it thin, something. Vader could sense him, vaguely, somewhere on the planet...but beyond that, he was gone. He had vanished completely out of sight, and it had all been because of Vader’s folly. 

Luke was _gone._

_His son was gone._

At last he stopped, stood in the midst of the trees; suddenly, he felt claustrophobic. The suit was not enough. It was too painful, too confined--he was as strong as he would ever be, and it was not strong enough. 

He had almost attacked his son. He knew that. In those last moments...he’d almost killed Luke the way he’d almost killed Aphra…

The way he’d killed...P--

No. 

But he could see her face, clearly; no, not clearly. It was merged now with that of Luke’s as he backed away from his father; their terrified expression was the same. 

_Say her name. Admit it--admit you are a failure of a husband and a failure of a father._

_Admit it!_

He had almost killed Luke the way he had killed Padme. 

For one moment, that last moment, he had lost himself to rage--and, quite logically, Luke had run. 

The Dark Side curled and spun outwards, spiraling with Vader’s rage and pain, and _exploded_ in a whirlwind of fury. It knocked the trees over, split the rocks in two, shook the earth. 

_He had lost his son._

_His_ only _son._

 _Padme’s_ son. 

He let his fury rage on, not just about Luke--about everything that losing Luke meant, for him, for his past, for the galaxy. Then, gradually, the fury faded, as much as it could; and Vader was left staring through the trees that remained around him as the sun set. 

_As the sun set._

An entire _day_ had nearly gone by, Vader realized in absolute horror. 

_You have six days to bring Skywalker to me, and to turn him to the Dark Side. If not, Lord Vader, I am afraid to tell you that his life will be forfeit._

Vader had, at the most, two days left. 

_What had he done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhhh I was literally so excited to write this chapter! This scene was one of the three scenes I originally envisioned when I started planning this, and you have NO IDEA how many narrative backflips I've been pulling to get us to this point! So I just kinda slammed this out in two days. Don't expect updates this fast lol, but I was sooooo excited to get this out.


	39. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Aphra run from Vader; the other group arrives at the Falcon.

_My father is going to kill me._

_My father is going to_ kill me. 

Luke ran, faster and more desperately than he’d ever run before, even as his leg stabbed constant pain at him and his face burned and his ribs ached; stumbled over roots and rocks, fell, dragged himself back up, kept sprinting along at the same breakneck pace. There was only this drive, this singular desperate need to get away from his father, who he could _feel_ chasing after him relentlessly. Luke knew he wasn’t thinking, he knew he wasn’t going anywhere specific and the dragons probably all knew where he was by now; but all he could feel was Vader coming after him, all he could feel was rage, the Force closing around his throat for a split second--

\--and Vader was going to kill him. Luke knew he was. 

But all the while, as fast as he ran, he could feel Vader closing in; he was going to catch up in a minute. So, desperate, breathing hard and in pain, Luke did the only thing he could think of. On his current path, there was a small opening in the ground, a hideout for some small animal. Quickly, he crawled inside, huddled as small as he could manage, and spread his presence thin, across the jungle. That was something Yoda had taught him, and Luke had done it successfully before. Of course, if Vader got too close, the technique wouldn’t matter; he’d be able to hear Luke’s ragged breathing. 

So Luke waited, clutching the dirt underneath him and trying to focus on the Force, and on nothing else. It was a difficult thing to do when he was terrified almost out of his mind, but he had to do it or die. It was a thing of survival. 

So he waited. 

And waited--

And Vader grew closer--

_I’m not here. I’m not here, you don’t sense me, I’m far away--I, I could be anywhere--_

And then Vader stopped coming. The presence stopped drawing near. 

He was leaving. 

He was not going to kill Luke. 

But Luke couldn’t bring himself to move. He couldn’t think, he could barely breathe--he couldn’t do anything. Now that the moment of danger had passed, his mind spun backward--what had happened? 

_What_ in the galaxy had _happened?_

_My father tried to kill me. He promised he’d never harm me and he didn’t want me to die--but he almost killed me--_

The space Luke was in, this small den, was too small. He needed to scream, he needed to be in the free air--but he didn’t want to move. He couldn’t move. What if Vader saw him? What if he was lying in wait? 

_I can’t--I can’t--I can’t--_

_I have to move--_

_I have to stay here--_

All of a sudden, the jungle shook with rage. Vader’s rage, his father’s rage--he was furious with Luke--

Luke curled in on himself even tighter. That didn’t do anything. 

The Force was too much, it was _too much;_ and all of a sudden, Luke could feel _everything--_ not just his fear, not just Vader’s fury. He could feel all the creatures in the jungle; the dragons, from wherever they were. He could feel Aphra, running terrified through the trees, barely conscious but terrified; just like he was. He could feel Leia and the Naberries and Chewie and Wedge and the Falcon...and the ground the Falcon was resting on. He could feel the life in the dirt, could feel every blade of grass, every tree, every small creature that wasn’t a dragon--

_It’s too much._

His mind spinning in circles, almost feeling like he was going insane, Luke slammed both hands to his ears in an effort to block the sensations. 

_The Force is with me--Force--Force is with me--_

Yes, the _Dark Side_ was with him. 

Luke lowered his hands from his head and looked at them; they shook violently. Filled with sudden revulsion, he wanted to cut them _both_ off, wanted to destroy the part of him that was so connected to the Force--

_You know which part of you that is._

It was true. Padme Amidala had not been Force-sensitive. She had been, from what Luke knew of her, good and kind, a true advocate for justice...she’d done wonderful things, great things, without ever having the Force. 

And Vader…

_Anakin…_

How were they the same person? How had they _ever been the same person?_ And if so, why, _why,_ had his mother loved him? 

Maybe she hadn’t been as bright or as intelligent as they all said.

What kind of person would fall in love with a monster? 

_So that’s my legacy,_ Luke thought bitterly, _to be evil, or to be stupid._ Slowly, he uncurled himself, and threw a rock into the wall of the cave. _That’s great. That’s just great._

For the first time since arriving, Luke looked out at his surroundings. He could barely see them; the sun had set. 

He knew what that meant. 

What did that mean?

His brain, racked by the terror and horror and sensory overload of the last hour, couldn’t think. 

_The dragons,_ he came up with at last. _They’re awake now. They’re hunting._

He couldn’t let himself sit here and wait to be attacked. But…

Now Luke wondered what the point was of moving. Why did he _want_ to remain alive? To be attacked by Vader again? 

Or...or to accidentally attack someone _himself?_

So he sat there, unsure of what to do, barely feeling anything; suddenly there was no terror. No shock, no horror, no revulsion. There was...nothing. 

It was almost nice, he realized. To not feel anything. 

And then--

_Aphra._

Aphra was out there alone, too. He had felt her, so he knew she was alive; but having been nearly choked to death--she must have only been a few seconds away from it--she was barely conscious. She was barely surviving. He had to help her. 

And also…

Leia. 

There was Leia. And the Naberries. Wedge. The _Falcon._

Help. 

You have to help them. 

That at last gave Luke the resolve he needed. The dark was approaching; Vader was somewhere out there; the dragons were somewhere. Aphra was out there. Leia was there. The dragons would kill them. 

Luke didn’t know much else, but he did know he needed to help them. 

There wasn’t any hope--he knew that. But there were also the people he loved. 

He sighed deeply and pulled himself forward, crawled out of the cave, and stood up. Then, on legs that could barely hold him up, he stumbled into the jungle. 

  
  


It was approaching sunset when Leia saw the _Falcon_ straight ahead. 

“There it is,” she told Ruya, who seemed half asleep. “We’re there.” 

Sleepily, Ruya blinked her eyes open and grabbed Leia’s hand for a moment to steady herself. 

“Oh,” she said. Then: “Is there food?”

“In a minute,” Sola said; her voice was tight. Amil was hardly walking; there had been something in the dragon’s bite that was causing him to have an intense physical reaction, and over the last hour he had relied on Sola to hold him up. “First your father needs help.” 

Ruya nodded solemnly. “Okay.” 

Those last few steps to the _Falcon_ seemed impossible. Fortunately, Wedge seemed to realize something was happening; he appeared, followed by Chewie. 

“What’s wrong?” Wedge looked at Leia, then at the newcomers. “Who are they?” He gasped. “You ran into the dragons, didn’t you?”

“Only one thing matters right now,” Leia said. She’d answer his questions in a minute; at the moment, they were short on time, and she was a little short on patience. “This man helped us against the dragons. He was injured. He needs medical attention.” 

Wedge still looked confused, but thank the Force for Chewbacca--with a low growl, he almost pushed the pilot out of the way, picked Amil Naberrie up in his arms, and walked with him into the ship. 

“He’ll be okay,” Leia said. “We don’t have excellent medical supplies, but Chewie won’t let him die.” 

Sola looked beyond exhausted, but she smiled. “Thank you. I think I’ll…” She gestured toward the ship. 

Leia nodded. “Of course.” 

Taking Ruya with her, Sola walked into the _Falcon_ to be with her husband. 

A second later, something bumped into her leg. 

Leia looked down at Artoo. “You know, you could say hello in a nicer way.” 

_You are very preoccupied lately,_ Artoo said. He never lacked for a response, did he? 

“Maybe I am,” Leia sighed. “What is it?”

Artoo almost seemed to become...less standoffish. _Do you think that I would fit inside the ship at the moment?_

Leia almost smiled. She knew what he really wanted; he wanted to see Threepio. He had missed the protocol droid, just like she had missed Luke. But he didn’t want to admit it. 

So instead, she pretended to think about it, and then nodded. 

“It might be a tight fit if you want to see how Amil is doing,” she said. “But I think so.” 

With a happy whistle, Artoo rolled up the ramp and into the ship. 

Then Leia was left with Wedge. 

“What’s the situation?” he demanded as soon as everyone had gone. “Where’s that doctor? And where’s _Luke?”_

Leia’s gut twisted. 

“He’s alive, if that’s what you want to know,” she said quietly. “And he’ll be all right. He and Aphra are together.” 

Wedge stared at her...and then, his eyes narrowed. 

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he said. 

Leia sighed. “Fine. Darth Vader is with him.” 

Wedge’s eyes bulged. “Darth-- _WHAT?”_

“Oh, keep your voice down!” Leia hissed. “It’s almost nightfall and there are _dragons around here!”_

“Yeah, of two different kinds,” Wedge muttered.

Leia found that she didn’t entirely disagree with that comparison. Nevertheless, she shook her head. 

“Like I said, Luke and Aphra are together,” she went on firmly. “Yes, Vader is with them, but I can tell you Luke will be fine. Vader won’t...I can’t explain it but I don’t think Vader will hurt him.”

“You don’t know that,” Wedge said shakily. 

Leia clenched her fists, trying to control her anger. 

“No,” she said tightly. “I don’t. But I didn’t exactly have any _say_ in the matter, it wasn’t in my control, so can we just please hope for the best?”

Wedge’s expression softened. “All right.”

An awkward silence fell between them. 

“Anything…” He cleared his throat. “Anything you want to know?”

_Luke’s going to be okay, Luke’s going to be okay...he’s resourceful...but the SECOND Vader touches a HAIR on his head--_

“Yes,” Leia said through clenched teeth. She realized she was not exactly letting go of her anger and took a deep breath. She couldn’t think of Luke right now; it would make her too angry. “What’s...what’s the situation with Han?”

“Nothing yet.” Wedge shook his head. “Lando’s gaining, but...it’s going to be close. Once Fett reaches Imperial territory, Lando has to turn around. Otherwise the Empire will be onto us.”

“Of course.” _Great. More good news._ “Well...well, keep me posted, okay?”

“Sure.” Wedge looked at her with something almost like...pity. She hated it. “Leia, why don’t you get some rest? You look exhausted.” 

“No.” She shook her head. “I have to be awake, just in case--”

“Just in case what? I’ll be here the whole time.” 

Leia opened her mouth, but the look on Wedge’s face stopped her--he was going to fiercely push it until she got some rest, and then she realized that...she sorely needed it anyway. She felt as though she was about to fall over; her eyes _hurt._

“Okay,” she said reluctantly; Wedge sighed in relief. “But you promise me-- _you promise me--”_ She jabbed a finger into his chest. “That you’ll tell me if _anything_ out of the ordinary happens. If a dragon shows up, I’d better know before it’s ready to eat me!” 

“Um.” Wedge looked somewhere between confused and horrified. “Sure.” 

“As far as promises go, that was pretty lame,” Leia muttered. 

“Just get your rest,” Wedge told her, but he was smiling. 

“I’m going, I’m going,” Leia said over her shoulder as she marched onto the _Falcon._ She walked right past the medbay, where several things were going on--Chewie was treating Amil and Threepio and Artoo looked on anxiously; Ruya was asleep in Sola’s lap; Sola was saying something to Amil. They didn’t look up, and that was for the best; Leia was too exhausted to come up with any consoling words. 

She walked right past them, almost stumbling, until she’d found Han’s bed. Her mind barely registered that it was Han’s--ordinarily, she wouldn’t have wanted to get anywhere near that because of the memories, but she was too tired to think about it. Exhausted, her eyes falling shut, she collapsed facedown on the bed. 

The bed smelled like Han; it was soothing, and did the rest of the work in making her lose all sense of the world. As soon as her head hit the pillow, Leia was asleep. 

  
  


Luke had no idea how far he ran after that. The world was a nightmarish blur of trees and creatures as darkness closed in, of tearing through the undergrowth, of _pain_ flashing through his leg, through his head, through his side--and a constant, constant desperate need to find Aphra. 

He had sensed her somewhere around here, when he’d felt the Force crash down on him; now he couldn’t sense her. Of course, she wasn’t Force-sensitive--but all the same it was frightening, _horrifying_ that he had saved her life only for her to die. Because if that were true...if she died…

Then he had used the Dark Side for _nothing._

No. No, he wouldn’t allow for that possibility. Aphra had to be alive, she _had to be._ She didn’t have to be conscious; just alive. 

But of course, there were dragons around, and if she fell unconscious--

_No._

Luke’s leg was a constant, burning center of pain; in any other situation he would have been screaming by now. But Aphra was the only thing he was focused on at the moment; having a working leg, for now, didn’t matter. 

And all the while he kept running…

Running…and desperately hoping. 

_She has to be alive, she has to be alive--_

Minutes passed, and gradually Luke could barely see--or he could barely focus. He wasn’t aware of where he was, only where he was going--if a dragon had been there he might not have even noticed until it was too late. 

_Please be alive--please--_

Luke was running too fast, and there was something on the ground; he tripped and went sprawling. 

For a moment, pain and darkness closed in; he saw nothing. For some reason, he kept thinking of Vader backhanding him; he didn’t know why. Tears leaked out from under his eyelids. 

_Danger. Danger, you’re in danger--_

Luke’s eyes flew open. There was someone here--someone was saying something--Vader was back, a dragon was going to kill him--

Terrified, he dragged himself to his feet. 

“Who’s there?” he demanded, turning around and around; something moved in the shadows, and he stumbled backward, thinking he saw claws. No. That was nothing. But someone was here. _“Who’s there?”_

Someone murmured...from the ground. 

Luke’s gaze snapped down, and there--there was Aphra. 

He’d tripped over _her._ It was Aphra who had spoken, and he hadn’t realized until now. Immediately Luke dropped to his knees beside her and turned her over onto her back. 

“Aphra!” He shook her, and that was when he noticed the horrible bruises around her neck; he hadn’t thought the effects would be visible, but there they were. Simultaneously, he was overwhelmed by both anger and terror. _“Aphra!”_

Finally, _finally,_ she stirred; her eyes blinked open and stared at him in confusion. 

“Hmm,” she murmured. “L...Luke?”

She didn’t seem alarmed in the least. She...she was barely conscious, maybe even delirious. 

“We need to go,” he said, even though he could tell that wasn’t going to work very well. “Come on, we need to get out of here!” 

“Out,” Aphra repeated. “We...we need to get away...need to…” 

Luke clenched his hands in frustration. This wasn’t working. She really had been injured close to death, and obviously she wouldn’t be able to do anything. 

Then what was he _supposed to do?_

Suddenly, the ground shook. 

That made up Luke’s mind for him. He was exhausted, shaking, terrified, in pain in more places than he could count--his entire body was spent. 

But that was a dragon coming, and he wasn’t going to let Aphra die. 

Luke steeled himself and looked down at Aphra. 

“All right,” he said. “We’re getting out of here--and you’ll have to do one thing. You’ll have to focus on me. Ready?”

She nodded, seeming more than a little confused. 

“Okay.” The ground shook again, closer this time; Luke had no time. Quickly, he slid his arms under Aphra, lifted her into his arms, and stood up. His leg almost buckled, but he clenched his teeth--he didn’t care what he had to do, _Aphra was going to live._

Then, with a dragon not too far behind him, Luke took off into the jungle. 

  
  


It took almost an hour, and several instances where she thought all was lost, but finally Sola was assured that Amil would be fine. 

The situation was that Amil was allergic to serotonin, which she’d always known; but what she had not known was that krayt dragons had serotonin in their saliva. Therefore, when the dragon had bitten Amil, it hadn’t just been that his arm was injured; the serotonin had gotten into his bloodstream and caused him to have an awful reaction. Another hour or two, and he might have died. 

Fortunately, the Wookiee knew his way around the ship, and had clearly patched up injured people before; despite his giant paws, he worked very carefully, never stopping until Amil was stable--and then he worked further, until Sola’s husband had regained consciousness. 

“Sola,” he whispered, taking her hand. 

“I’m here,” she said, smiling through her tears; she had lost her sister. She had lost her mother. She wasn’t about to lose anyone else she loved. “You’re all right, Amil. Everything’s going to be all right.” 

“Good.” Amil was already starting to fall asleep again; Chewie had injected him with some type of sedative, and now that he’d been awake once, Sola knew that he must sleep. 

“Rest,” she said. “I’ll be here when you’re awake.” 

Amil smiled. His hand tightened in hers for a moment, and then his eyes slid shut again. 

Sola stared at him for a long moment, watching the rising and falling of his chest; then, she let out a sigh. It had been a very, _very_ long night, and she needed some sleep. But first…

She turned her head. Ruya was sound asleep next to her. 

She thought for a moment about putting her to bed; but Ruya had been insistent that she stay next to her father. 

“Sleep well,” Sola whispered, planting a kiss to Ruya’s forehead, before standing to check on their other friend, who she’d seen stumble into the other room an hour ago. 

Leia Organa was asleep as well. Curled up on the big bed, she looked almost childlike; and the image tugged at Sola’s heart for a reason she couldn’t explain. 

After a moment, she walked quietly out of the room. She needed sleep; and she had seen a second room just past the medbay. Tiptoeing, so as not to wake Ruya, Sola walked into the room and laid down on the small cot. 

It seemed like only a minute had passed when she heard someone shouting. 

“Come on!” It was the pilot’s voice---Wedge Antilles. “I need help!” 

_Dragons,_ Sola thought. She was fully awake and running out of the compartment in an instant. 

“Mama?” Ruya opened her eyes sleepily. “What’s going on?”

“Stay here,” Sola ordered her. “Stay by your father, and _don’t move.”_

Aphra’s Mandalorian weapon was at the edge of the ship; Leia wasn’t awake yet, so it would be up to Sola to use it. There was also the blaster that would neutralize the dragon, but she’d have to be careful with her shots; there weren’t many of the acid bolts. 

She grabbed both of them and ran out of the ship. 

Antilles was standing there, looking at the horizon. 

“Captain,” Sola said. “What’s happening?” 

“It’s--I heard something,” Antilles whispered. “Something in the jungle. It’s coming our way--”

“Does it sound large?”

“No. But the Canyon krayts are smaller, and they move very quietly; they’re hunters, is what Leia said.” 

Sola stood with him, watching; a moment later, the bushes at the edge of the jungle trembled slightly. She peered forward, searching for the mottled gray scales of the dragons. She thought she saw something…

Then the bushes parted, and Luke Skywalker staggered out of the jungle carrying Aphra over his shoulders. 

Sola ran forward instantly, followed by Wedge. Luke looked terrible; his eyes were wide with pain and terror, and he listed to one side as he emerged into the clearing. Then he stopped, just in time to slide Aphra forward and onto the ground. 

“Take her,” he croaked. “Please. She...she needs medical attention…” 

Then he collapsed. 

Sola was shocked at this turn of events, but she moved forward to catch her nephew before he hit the ground. He was a dead weight in her arms, so she quickly shifted to lay him on the grass. 

“Luke!” Leia’s voice rang out behind them; and in a moment, she was at Sola’s side.

Immediately, Luke’s eyes opened. It was as if he was forcing himself to stay awake; she could tell, at a glance, how terrified he was. 

Something had happened. 

And Vader wasn’t with them…

“She needs--she needs medical attention--” Luke was trying to sit up, so she pushed him back down. “Y-you have to help her--”

Slowly, Sola’s gaze shifted to Aphra. There were...there were _marks_ around her neck…

Oh, no. No, no, _no._ So Vader had at last been unable to control himself, just like she’d expected...and poor Luke was terrified out of his mind as a result. 

And that begged another question? Had anything happened to _Luke?_

“It’s all right,” she told him, trying to keep the anger from her voice; Luke needed gentleness, at the moment. Well, what he really needed was rest, but in his current state he wasn’t going to be able to calm down enough to sleep. “We’re going to take care of her.” 

“No--no, you don’t understand,” Luke gasped. “There’s a dragon--”

Sola glanced at Leia and Wedge. 

“We’ll be here,” Leia said. “Hand me the weapons.” 

Sola felt slightly reluctant about it--she didn’t know why she was starting to feel so specifically protective of the Alderaanian princess--but she did. Leia was more capable with blasters, after all. 

“Leia,” Luke whispered desperately, gripping her sleeve, “tell Sola--”

“I know,” Leia told him. “Don’t worry. Help is coming.” 

“For Aphra,” Luke specified--how long had he been on his feet after Aphra had nearly died? It must have been too long, for him to be this desperate. _“Aphra.”_

Fortunately, the next second help did arrive; in the form of Chewbacca, who scooped Aphra up even easier than he’d done for Amil and carried her onto the _Falcon._

After that Luke finally seemed to relax. He stared after the Wookiee for several seconds; then fell back, peace in his face. 

Sola and Leia shared a glance. 

They were both worried about him--but in different ways. 

“Luke,” Leia said at last. “I want you to relax, but--”

“Yes,” Luke said, sitting up immediately. “What do I need to--ah!” 

“You _don’t_ need to do _anything,”_ Leia told him sternly. “What I’m going to do is look at your leg. It must be--”

She froze. All she’d done was move her hand over it. 

“Oh,” she whispered, _“god.”_

“What?” Luke asked; he sounded slightly more aware than he had been minutes ago. He couldn’t see his leg, so instead his eyes searched Leia’s, and Sola’s. “How...how bad is it?”

Leia didn’t say anything--not to him. Instead, she pointed Sola toward the wound. 

Sola couldn’t see it too well in the dark, or through Luke’s trousers--but from what she _could_ see, the wound was red, swollen, and oozing pus. Thanks to whatever Luke had done over the last day, it was a _full_ infection. 

“How bad is it?” Luke said again. 

“You...you need a bacta tank,” Leia said. 

Why did no one want to tell this boy the full truth about anything? Sola shook her head. He was an adult; she could tell he wanted to know. 

“It is _badly_ infected,” she said. “Much worse than last night, when Leia examined it the first time. Leia’s right, you need a bacta tank; we don’t have any supplies here to treat that. We probably shouldn’t do anything now, with the limited supplies we do have; who knows how contaminated those bacta patches are by now?”

Luke shook his head. “I knew it was bad, but…” He attempted to lift his leg; it barely budged, and yet a spasm of pain crossed his face. “I guess with everything else that’s happened, I’m not too surprised.” 

Sola felt a moment of sadness, at that. For that to be the least of Luke’s worries…

She could see why, though. He was trying to hide it for Leia’s sake, but he was far beyond his breaking point; what he needed was rest, but before that what he needed was to be able to talk to _someone_ about his pain. 

And he did not want that someone to be Leia. 

A moment later, Chewie had arrived, and then Sola had an answer. 

“Stay here,” she told the princess as the Wookiee picked Luke up; and as gentle as the soft-hearted creature was, even _that_ had jarred the boy’s leg, judging from the pained expression on his face. 

“But I need to be with him,” Leia protested. 

“Yes,” Sola said, trying to be patient. “But you also need to protect him from the dragons. He’s already done it for you--he can’t do that right now.” 

For a moment, she thought Leia would fight her on it; then the girl sighed, her shoulders drooping. 

“You’re right.” Leia sighed. “I'll stay with Wedge. But keep me posted.” 

  
  


There was hardly any room on the _Falcon_ now. By necessity, Aphra needed the medbed; Amil’s reaction had mostly calmed now, and he was more than happy to be shunted off to the large bed that Leia had been sleeping on. That meant that Luke was relegated to the cot. Hopefully, it would be comfortable enough for him to sleep; at this point, Sola figured Luke would fall asleep on the ground. 

But when she entered the room, he was sitting up, staring at nothing. 

“Luke?” she asked quietly. “Is it okay if I come in?”

He nodded, slowly; he surely registered her presence, but it was as if he wasn’t seeing her. 

He was dissociating. She’d seen it before. 

Moving carefully and deliberately, Sola moved forward until she was right next to the cot, and then sat down next to him. For a long time, he didn’t look at her. 

“Aphra’s going to be fine,” Sola said at last, thinking she would reassure him first. He had seemed so anxious about that, above anything else. “You didn’t have to worry.” 

There was silence from Luke, and then--

“Yes, I did,” he said quietly; he was still staring straight ahead. 

Sola frowned. Something awful really had happened...but she could tell how much pain Luke was in from it. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” she said, “if you don’t want to.” 

Luke nodded slowly. For several minutes, they just sat there on the cot. Occasionally, they could hear a thundering footstep or two, but nothing that was too close to the _Falcon._ Sola began to wonder if, in his shock, Luke had completely imagined that there was a dragon right behind them. 

“It was Vader,” Luke said at last, his voice rough. 

Sola clenched her fists. “I know. I figured it was.” He still wasn’t looking at her. “It’s still not your fault, Luke.” 

Finally, he turned to look at her. The pain in his eyes almost drove her to tears.

“You don’t know that,” he said, his voice trembling. “You _don’t know that!”_

Sola did know that, actually. She knew it because she’d managed to convince herself that because she had met Anakin, she could have stopped Padme from marrying him. She had managed to convince herself that Padme’s death was _her_ fault, that as the older sister she should have protected her. 

But that wasn’t something Luke needed to hear right now. Clearly something awful had happened because of Vader. If he were to find out that his father had killed his mother…

It would break him. 

Even more than he was broken now. 

“Well, then,” she said, trying to sound patient; and after raising three daughters, she still didn’t feel like she was good at that. “If you don’t mind, _why_ do you think it’s your fault, or that this is somehow on you?”

Luke was silent for a long time--for several minutes, or at least that was what it felt like. Sola just watched him; she didn’t push him. He’d had enough of family members pushing him into things. 

Finally, he closed his eyes. 

A single tear leaked out, leaving a clean trail through the dirt on his cheek. His cheek...there was an ugly bruise there, Sola realized. 

It _could_ have been from an attack by a dragon. But Darth Vader--Anakin Skywalker--had a history of hurting the people he loved. 

Luke opened his eyes then, and spoke. 

“He tried to kill Aphra,” he said at last. “Vader tried to kill Aphra, just because she...she figured out I’m…” He closed his eyes again, for a brief second. “Because she figured out the truth.” 

He had tried to kill Aphra; after Luke had made him promise not to hurt his friends. Sola had expected that, but it still made her furious beyond belief. 

“I tried to stop him,” Luke said, his voice growing slightly louder. “I thought he’d listen to me, I thought he--he cared--” 

He broke off. He sounded so, so lost; Sola wanted to hug him. 

“But he just kept killing her,” he whispered. 

“He shouldn’t have,” Sola said. “He is _terrible,_ to do that to you.” 

“But then _I’m_ terrible," Luke went on. This was what was bothering him, Sola could tell. “If he’s terrible, so am I, because the only reason Aphra’s alive at all is because I used the Dark Side to throw Vader away from her!”

The Dark Side. Just like his father. 

At last, Sola understood. 

For some undetermined amount of time, Luke had been struggling with the knowledge of who his father actually was. At the heart of that struggle was the idea that if his father was evil, then he must be evil; so then, using the Dark Side was something that he _must not do._ It was forbidden, impossible to think of, because if he used it, he would become a Sith. He would help lead the galaxy to evil. 

But the fact that Vader had been telling him to use it, probably for days, and it had taken him nearly killing someone Luke loved to force him into it...that spoke wonders. 

And that was the goodness Luke couldn’t see in himself. 

“That still doesn’t make it your fault,” Sola told him. “He pushed you into it. He tried to kill someone you loved, when you were exhausted and in pain--”

“That doesn’t matter!” Luke fully turned himself to face her now, as much as his leg would allow. “Don’t you get it? I know you don’t have the Force, so you couldn’t possibly understand, but _that doesn’t matter!_ I shouldn’t have used it at all. The Dark Side _isn’t right,_ it’s _not natural,_ and I shouldn’t use it in _any_ situation!” His shoulders shook. “What I should’ve done was use the Light, but I’m not strong enough to do that.” 

Sola sighed. “I don’t know how to make you understand, but you’re not a bad person, Luke. I haven’t known you for very long, but from what I’ve seen of you I can _tell_ you’re good. You are good, and strong, and you have nothing to worry about.” 

“But I do,” he snapped. _“You_ know the truth, _you_ of all people I can talk to about this, and--and you don’t know what it’s like. I worshipped him. I _worshipped him,_ my whole life. I tried to be _like_ him! And now, a month later, I--I--” He shook his head. “I don’t want to be like him. I don’t. I _can’t,_ or it means everything I’ve done is for nothing, it means my friends will _die,_ but--but--”

Sola didn’t know what to say. He had needed this, she knew that; but now that he was saying all of it, she didn’t know what to do. He was right that she couldn’t understand--she had never experienced _anything_ near to the suffering that her poor, sweet nephew had experienced over the last month. 

“I don’t want him to be my father, but he _is,”_ Luke got out, rambling on. Sola could tell that he was near to breaking. “He is, and I--I guess I’ve accepted it, and--and--and all I ever wanted was for my father to care about me. To even...to even give me advice, to give a damn about my _wellbeing_ ; and obviously that’s _never_ going to happen. It’ll never happen, as much as I want it to, but I want it anyway and I know it's stupid, and--and--and _I just want a father who loves me!”_

There. There it was. 

Sola’s heart broke. 

And then, as she was staring at Luke, who had tears in his eyes, who looked so miserable and lost and despairing, she couldn’t stop herself. She leaned forward and hugged him. 

Luke stiffened at first, and for a horrible moment Sola thought she had made a mistake; but then he relaxed into her arms...and began sobbing. 

Sola hugged him even tighter. It had probably been ages since Luke had been hugged like this at all; and he had never, ever been able to pour out his thoughts on this specific subject. He had sat with this pain, alone, for a month; no wonder he was at his breaking point. 

He was incredibly, incredibly strong not to have reached it earlier. 

Luke went on crying into her chest, like any of her children had done at some point or another--even Ruya--and eventually Sola found herself stroking his back, and his hair. 

“You poor, sweet boy,” she murmured, and realized that there were tears in her own eyes as well. “You absolutely don’t deserve--”

Luke said something. She stopped. 

“Yes,” he’d said, his words barely audible. “Yes, I do--”

“No,” Sola said, and resumed stroking his hair again. “No, listen to me. You’ve only broken down just now. You’re stronger than you believe, _much_ stronger, you--” Sola swallowed. “You’re exactly, _exactly_ like your mother. Padme put too much on herself, expected too much from herself, and history remembers her--I remember her--only as _good._ You are a wonderful, _wonderful_ person who only wants good for the world, and you deserve nothing of what has happened to you.” 

There was nothing from Luke. No response. 

_“Nothing,”_ Sola repeated. “You _don’t_ deserve to have the father that you do; after what you’ve gone through, you deserve only happiness. You don’t deserve him. You are _nothing like him._ Do you understand?”

Finally, _finally,_ Luke nodded. She felt his head move. 

“I just--” He sniffed in a deep breath. “I just want this to be over.” 

“I know, Luke.” The tears had tracked their way down her cheeks now, but Sola only kept holding him; she just sat there, on the cot, rocking him back and forth the way she had done to her children. “I know.” 

They sat there long into the night. Luke kept crying, and Sola kept hugging him and murmuring reassurances; she didn’t know what she said to him. She only knew that she wanted her nephew to not _despise_ himself so deeply. 

She also wanted to kill Vader, but that one would have to wait. 

At last, the crying was over, and Luke had calmed down significantly, so Sola finally pushed him back. She didn’t say anything immediately; she just looked at him, made sure he was all right. 

“There,” she said at last. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” Luke said, running a hand through his hair, “I--” Then he turned red. “I shouldn’t have let you do that. I’m twenty-two--”

“Don’t do that to yourself,” she said firmly. “Amil is fifty-one. I give him all the hugs he needs.” 

Something like a smile hinted at the corners of Luke’s lips. 

“And widen that out,” Sola teased him. “I want to see you smile more.” 

Luke’s smile widened, just a little. “Okay, Aunt Sola.” 

Sola smiled back. He was nowhere near healed, yet; she didn’t know if it would ever happen. But he was certainly better off than he had been several hours ago. 

Without warning, the door opened. 

“There aren’t any dragons nearby,” Leia said. 

Luke’s shoulders slumped. “I know. I think I was imagining it.” 

Leia blinked. “You look...much better already.”

“I feel like it,” Luke said, and then, as if it were obvious: “Sola talked to me.” 

“Um.” Leia blinked again. “Okay. Well...I’m glad it worked, then.” She shook her head. “Can I talk to you? In private?”

Luke frowned. “What for? Why?”

“It’s part of the reason I came here,” Leia said. “I have something I need to give to you...it’s why I kept trying to get you alone.” 

Sola knew what it was. Leia had told her. 

It was the lightsaber. 

And hopefully, if Luke was feeling better...he’d have the belief in himself necessary to create it. 

So she smiled and stood up. “I’ll leave you two alone, then.” 

“Sola,” Luke called. 

She turned to look around. He was smiling fully now. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

Sola nodded. “Any time, Luke.” 

Then, feeling much better herself, she left the small room and went to find Amil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, for once no warnings necessary! Gosh that's such a relief. Lol.


	40. Two Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke attempts to build the lightsaber; Leia and Aphra have a talk.

At last. _At last._

It had taken long enough, but at long last Leia had Luke alone. At last, she could give him the materials he would need to build his lightsaber. 

As soon as Sola left, Leia sat down on the bed at Luke’s side. There were...there were tears on his face.

“Are you all right?” she asked. 

“I’m...better,” Luke said quietly. He took a shaky breath. “Sola helped me. More than I thought she would, actually.” 

Leia didn’t know what to say to that; for a moment, she felt a bit miffed. Why hadn’t Luke come to _her?_ This was clearly about the secret he’d been keeping from everyone for a month. 

“Luke,” she said, and she couldn’t keep the pleading out of her voice. “You can talk to me. I know something happened on Bespin, but _you can tell me._ I know you’re close to breaking over this--”

“Not now,” Luke said, and his voice sounded strained, as if he were on the edge of tears. “Please.” 

Leia nodded, her lips tight. No, she couldn’t ask him now; she knew that, and she already felt awful for pressing. He’d probably just spoken about it to Sola; she couldn’t re-open that wound. 

But when? _When would he tell her?_

“Yeah,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t...don’t worry about it.” Luke pressed his hand over hers. “What did you want to tell me?”

Here it was. At long last. 

“I already told you this,” Leia said, “but we found out that once the dragons have been touched by the acid, lightsabers can pierce their armor.”

“Yeah,” Luke said shakily, “but the last person I want to be around right now is--”

“I’m not talking about Vader,” Leia said sharply. “I don’t want you anywhere around him, either.”

Luke’s shoulders slumped in relief. Vader really _had_ done something awful to him.

 _I’ll kill him. I don’t care that he’s a two-meter cyborg monster, I will_ kill him.

“No, Luke,” Leia said. “This isn’t about Vader. This is about _you.”_

Luke sighed. “Trust me, Leia, I wish I had a lightsaber, too. I would’ve used it by now. But as it is--”

Enough. Without another word, Leia handed Luke the box. 

Luke fell silent, staring wordlessly, and then he slowly took the box from Leia, as if in a dream. After several seconds, he took the lid and opened it. 

The bright glow of the crystal lit up the room. 

“This…” Luke frowned. “You went through my stuff.” 

“I--” Leia broke off. That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say first. “I, I mean--Wedge and I were desperate--”

Luke laughed quietly. That was the first she’d heard him laugh in...in a long time.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I probably would have done the same.” He continued to look at the beautiful crystal. “But...but Leia…” 

Leia leaned forward. “What is it?”

“I--” Luke gestured down at the contents of the box. “Leia, this…” He looked unbelievably miserable. “I don’t know _how_ to make a lightsaber. The only person who could have taught me was Yoda, and...and I don’t even know if he’s...still alive.” 

Leia stared at him. All this time, all these days of hoping--and she hadn’t even considered the possibility that Luke...didn’t know enough about the Force to create the lightsaber. 

But then...but then, she’d _seen_ him use the Force before. Luke had figured out how to do a Jedi mind trick all by himself, when he and Han and Leia were in a tough spot on Ord Mantell. She had thought all was lost...and then Luke had told the bounty hunter to put down the blaster, and he’d...he’d just done it. 

And hours before, Luke had been telling her he’d tried to do a mind trick multiple times, and didn’t think he could ever do it. 

She had _seen_ him use the Force before. Before Bespin...and after.

The problem wasn’t Luke’s lack of knowledge. Well--no, that was a problem. But it was a problem that Luke had shown her, time and time again, he could get past. 

The _problem_ was Luke’s lack of confidence in himself. 

Luke was having the worst time of his life, he was the worst she’d ever seen him; but Leia also knew that he was _incredibly_ strong with the Force, and that if you stripped away all the trauma...the same determined kid was still in there. 

She just had to make _him_ understand that, too. 

“Hey,” Leia said, squeezing his hand. “Hey. Listen to me, Luke. I know things have been terrible for you. I know...I’m not going to press for answers. But I know that _something_ awful happened to you on Bespin, and that it’s Vader’s fault. I…” She sighed. “I know you’re not the person you used to be.” 

Luke lowered his eyes, looking away. 

“But,” Leia said, “that _doesn’t_ change how strong you are in the Force. That doesn’t change your strength as a Jedi!” 

Luke looked at her. There was a world of pain in his eyes. 

“You don’t know,” he said. “You _don’t know.”_

Leia was about to agree--she didn’t know his particular situation. But then she remembered Alderaan. Before, she had been strong. She had known she had a bright future as a Senator, a future as a daughter who would make her father proud. Even in captivity on the Death Star, even as her mind was ripped apart by Darth Vader, _that_ was what had kept her tethered: the knowledge that she belonged to Alderaan, that her planet was continuing to stay strong, that she would fight for Alderaan and for her family as long as she could draw breath. 

Then, Alderaan...was gone. 

And even after her rescue, after the Death Star itself was destroyed...she didn’t know what to do, what to think. If Alderaan was nothing, then what was she? What was her purpose? Did her skills as a diplomat, Senator, and warrior even mean...anything? 

She had gotten past that. Han and Luke had helped her get past it. 

But it had taken a long, long time. 

So she leaned forward, anger filling her at the memory of that time. 

“Trust me,” she said, taking both of Luke’s hands in hers. _“I know.”_

Luke stared back at her. He didn’t say anything, and neither did she; but somehow, complete understanding passed between them. 

And finally, Luke took a deep breath. 

“All right,” he said. “If you think I can do it, then I’ll give it a--” He broke off and smiled, as if he’d thought of a joke. “Then I’ll do it.” 

Leia couldn’t believe it. She’d actually convinced him. 

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I don’t want to push you into anything, but--”

“No. I know. And you’re right.” Luke pulled his hands out of her grasp and, despite his leg, stood up, balancing himself on the edge of the desk. “I’m the last Jedi. Either I make this lightsaber, or we all die.” 

  
  
  


Aphra opened her eyes with a gasp--and immediately, she began coughing. 

“Easy,” said a soft voice to her right. Aphra turned her head, tears watering her eyes--Sola Naberrie, of all people, was sitting next to her. “Don’t try to move. And try not to--”

“What happened?” Aphra said; and was horrified at how her voice came out. It was raspy, and gravelly, and getting words out at all was a struggle. 

“--try not to speak,” Sola said wearily. “Please, Aphra. You’ve been through enough.” 

“But what--” It was too much. The mere effort of speaking _burned,_ and Aphra doubled over in an intense coughing fit. 

When it was over, she was being handed a glass of water. She downed all of it. 

“Since you’re so determined to know,” Sola said, “Luke brought you here.” 

Luke? How would he have done that? He was injured. Aphra opened her mouth to speak--

 _“No,”_ Sola told her firmly. 

Aphra fumed. She felt like a child. Just because Sola was a _mother--_

“Do you remember nothing else?” Sola asked. “Nothing before waking up?”

Aphra frowned. She...she vaguely remembered. She’d gone off with Luke and Darth Vader, Luke, Luke who was--

Luke was Vader’s son. 

Of course. It was so, so obvious, she didn’t know why she hadn’t remembered it immediately--

_Invisible force--I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe--_

_Vader’s going to kill me--_

_I can’t_ breathe!

Aphra gasped as she remembered and barely kept herself from coughing again. Of course. She’d...she knew she’d said some things she shouldn’t have said, things Luke had been begging her not to say...and then…

Then she had woken up like this. 

Luke...Luke must have saved her life. 

She couldn’t have seen any universe where Vader had just _stopped._ Luke must have _made_ him stop; but Aphra dimly remembered Luke trying to, begging Vader, and nothing had happened. 

How, then, was she even alive?

“Is…” Aphra just managed to get the word out. “Is Vader…”

“Luke didn’t kill him, no,” Sola said. There was some look in her eyes, something Aphra didn’t quite understand. “No one knows where Vader is. I think that’s for the best.” 

The look was still in her eyes. Aphra was exhausted, her throat and vocal cords hurt like nothing she’d experienced before...but she knew what that look meant, suddenly. 

Sola _knew._

Somehow, for some reason, Sola Naberrie knew Luke’s secret as well. 

Aphra looked around--Luke had been so, so adamant that she not know the truth. But no one else was around; it was only her and Sola. 

So she leaned close to the older woman. 

“I know,” she rasped. “Sola, I...I _know._ I...figured it out--”

“Shh.” Sola pushed her back against the pillows and gave her more water. “Don’t talk. Just rest.” 

“But--”

“We’ll talk later,” Sola said. “Trust me, Aphra. We’ll talk. But for now, you _need_ to rest.” 

Aphra couldn’t exactly argue with that. Her eyelids were already starting to slide shut. She downed more of the water--oh, that felt _good--_ and handed it back to Sola. 

The next moment, darkness closed in, and she was asleep.

  
  


Luke knew he needed a quiet place, if he was going to try to build this lightsaber. Fortunately, on the way to the _Falcon,_ Leia had noticed a hole in the ground that passed for some sort of cave; it wasn’t more than a mile’s walk from where they’d left the ship. 

Unfortunately, given that they didn’t want to draw the dragons’ attention, Chewbacca was going to have to carry him all the way there. 

“We’d treat your leg,” Leia told him helplessly. “But we don’t really have the supplies. What you really need is a bath in bacta.” 

“I know.” Luke sighed. “I’ll deal with it. It’s okay.” 

It really wasn’t. What he wanted was for his leg to stop hurting. But at this point, what mattered was killing the dragons. 

Luke just didn’t know how he was going to do that with an injured leg. 

For now, they handled it by giving him another bacta patch and a stim shot, and ordering him to rest. 

While his leg was being treated, Ruya came by. Luke smiled at the sight of his eager cousin, probably already thinking up an insult; it was good to see her. He still didn’t know how, exactly, how to tell her that she was his cousin; he could already envision the kinds of questions she would ask him, and he did not want to deal with that at the moment. 

“That looks terrible,” she said, about his leg. 

“Yeah.” Luke wrinkled his nose. “Thanks.” 

Ruya hopped up on the bed next to him. “Does it hurt?”

“Yep,” Luke said, trying not to think about it. “All the time.”

“That sounds really annoying,” she said. “How much would it hurt if you were walking on it?”

“I’d...probably fall over,” Luke admitted. 

Ruya laughed. “Okay. How much would it hurt if I poked it?”

“It would hurt a lot,” Luke warned her, “so please, don’t do that.” 

“Okay.” Ruya ignored his order. “How much would it hurt if I--”

Fortunately, at that moment, Sola poked her head inside the room. “Ruya, stop bothering him!”

“She’s not bothering me,” Luke said, but he was relieved. “I’ll see you around, Ruya.” 

“Don’t die before you get back,” Ruya told him as she was ushered out of the room.

Luke almost laughed; then he realized that that was a legitimate concern these days. “I won’t die, Ruya. Promise.” 

She waved at him, and then she and Sola were gone. 

A few minutes later, Wedge came to sit next to him. 

“Hey, Luke,” he said quietly. “How are you feeling?”

“Well…” Luke looked down. “My leg feels like someone set it on fire and then injected it with acid, I think one of my ribs is broken now, I haven’t slept for three days, and I’m pretty sure I’m constantly almost on the edge of a mental breakdown, but other than that--” He grinned. “I’m fine.” 

Wedge didn’t smile back. 

“Luke,” he said. “You _have_ to stop pretending things are okay when they’re not.” 

Luke sighed. “I know. I talked to Sola for a while.” 

“Sola...Naberrie?” Wedge frowned. “Did that...help?”

Luke nodded. “Things aren’t perfect. But they’re better.” 

“That’s...that’s good to hear, at least.” 

Wedge fell silent, and they just sat there on the cot. It was so, so unbelievably good to be able to see him--and Chewie, and Threepio, and--

Lando wasn’t here. 

“Hey.” Luke sat up, as much as his leg would allow. “Where’s...where’s Lando?” When Wedge didn’t answer immediately, he frowned. “Nothing happened to him, right?”

“No, no,” Wedge said, and Luke relaxed. “It’s the opposite, actually. Luke…” A dim hint of a smile passed across Wedge’s face. “Lando’s got a chance to find Han.” 

_Han._

Luke had forgotten, in the past few days, the reason why he’d come to this hell planet to begin with; and suddenly, for the first time in...well, a very long time, he felt hope. 

“A chance to _find Han?”_ He ran his hands through his hair. “How--I mean, I thought--”

“It’s a slim chance,” Wedge warned him. “Fett’s on his way to Tatooine. If Lando can’t stop him in the next few hours, he’ll be in Imperial territory and we’ll have lost our chance, and then our job will be a whole lot harder.”

It would. Luke would have to go...home. 

If he even got off Felucia to begin with. 

“But...a chance,” Luke said. “There’s a chance we could find Han?”

“Yes.” Wedge nodded once--then again, as if he hadn’t really thought about it until now. “Yes, there’s a chance.” 

There was a chance. But Leia, and Wedge, and Chewie...they were all here helping _him._

“I should be there,” Luke said. “I need to be there, I need to save him--”

“No, Luke.” Wedge put a hand on his arm. “Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t do it. You’re here, you’re here for a reason, and you’ve had enough to deal with.” 

Luke didn’t say anymore; he just nodded. Wedge wouldn’t understand, anyway. 

He needed to save Han. He needed to...because it was _his fault_ Han needed saving to begin with.

Luke was saved from any more awkwardness by Leia’s arrival. 

“Chewie’s ready,” she said. “He’s got the acid blaster and everything, in case of…”

“Dragons,” Luke and Wedge said together. 

If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Luke would have laughed. What were the odds that the three of them would be escaping bloodthirsty _dragons_ together? It sounded like something out of a fairytale. 

“It’s time, I guess.” Wedge stood up. “See you, Luke.” 

Then Chewie arrived, and it really was time. Luke didn’t exactly want it to happen, but it had to--so once more, he dealt with the indignity of being picked up. 

“Take care, Luke,” Leia said from the ground. 

“I will,” he told her softly.

“You can do it,” Leia added. “I know you don’t think so, but you can.” 

Luke didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t think he could do it--but he knew he had to. 

But she would have argued that, too. And he was not in the mood to lose an argument with her. Not by a long shot. 

So he just waved, and let Chewie carry him out of the _Falcon._

  
  


The journey was silent, and seemed to pass by in a blur. This was mostly owing to the fact that being held by a Wookiee was, actually, quite comfortable--it was like being held by a blanket. Luke’s mind was full of worries and anxieties and the memory of what had happened several hours ago, so he didn’t fall asleep; but all that fur was extremely soft and comforting, and Chewie’s swaying motions were starting to lull him to sleep. Within several minutes, Luke felt his eyes sliding shut.

Then something vibrated against Luke’s cheek. Chewie had said something.

“What?” Luke mumbled, opening his eyes halfway. 

_You are very exhausted,_ Chewie said in his characteristic Wookiee growl. _Are you sure that you should be doing this?_

Great. Not _another_ person who was worried about him. 

“Yes,” Luke said. How could he explain it? That he’d had a vision for almost a week about something that would happen on this planet, and it was starting to stress him out? That Darth Vader was his father, and had almost killed him several times, and every time Luke tried to sleep he saw that mask looming over him? “I’m sure about it, Chewie. I mean, I have to.” 

_That is not the same._

Luke sighed. “Well, I don’t have a choice. The dragons need to die.” 

_I am sure that we can help kill them._

“I know, but--” Arguing with a Wookiee while said Wookiee was carrying him like a baby was a very awkward experience; and beyond that, Luke had enough doubts. “Just forget it.” 

The rest of the journey was just a few minutes, and passed in silence. At last, Chewie stopped walking, and Luke opened his eyes. 

In front of them was a cave. 

“You’ll have to put me down,” Luke said, realizing the entrance was too tall for a Wookiee. 

Almost reluctantly--did _everyone_ have to be so worried about him?--Chewie set Luke on his feet and stepped back. Immediately, pain flared through Luke’s leg, and he almost collapsed before Chewie caught him. 

“Maybe...maybe you’ll have to help me walk to the cave,” Luke admitted ruefully.

With a sound that was almost like a laugh, Chewie wrapped a furry arm around Luke’s shoulders and walked him to the cave’s opening. Once they were there, Luke held onto the wall for support. 

“Thanks,” Luke said, turning slightly to address Chewie. “I know I haven’t been...the nicest about it. It’s a little...I don’t know, it’s embarrassing. But I wouldn’t have been able to walk--my leg really does hurt. So...thank you.” 

Chewie ruffled Luke’s hair in response. Luke smiled. 

It had only been four days, but he’d missed the big Wookiee. 

_I’ll wait here for you,_ Chewie told him. _Until you’re done._

Luke opened his mouth to say no--but then he realized he probably wouldn’t be able to walk back to the _Falcon_ on his own. 

“Okay,” he said. “Thanks, Chewie.” 

_May the Force be with you,_ Chewie told him in response. 

Luke raised a hand in a salute. Then, deciding he’d procrastinated this long enough, he squared his shoulders and walked into the cave. 

  
  


It was pitch black inside; the only light came from the outside world, and as it was a gray sort of day outside, that wasn’t much. But he couldn’t do anything about it--he hadn’t brought any kind of light. 

Except for the lightsaber, of course. But that hadn’t been made yet. 

Luke had no idea how he was supposed to go about this. He’d retrieved the materials from Ben’s hut on Tatooine shortly after joining the Rebellion. With it had come several instructions, which he had read through multiple times, including after Bespin; by now, he knew them by heart. Assembling the hilt would be easy for him; it involved engineering, for the most part, and he could probably have done it in his sleep. 

But after that, he was supposed to “connect” to the crystal, at which point it would turn an unknown color and be fitted into the diatium power cell, all with the Force. 

How was he supposed to do that? 

He’d meditate, he assumed. But beyond that...he didn’t know. 

_I can’t do this,_ he thought, staring down at all the components of the weapon that he had to put together. _I can’t, I have to do this but I can’t, I don’t know, I’m not strong enough, it won’t work and I’ll waste time and--_

He stopped. 

What would Leia have done? He thought about it. 

She would focus on the part she was sure about first. What was he sure about? 

_I know how to put the other parts together. I’ll do that._

That would have to be done with the Force as well; but it would be much easier. Slowly, hissing as pain shot through his leg, Luke lowered himself to the ground and dragged himself against a wall. Then, once he was settled, he set the box in front of him and removed all the parts except the crystal. 

Then he closed his eyes and immersed himself in the Force. 

  
  


The next time Aphra opened her eyes, Sola Naberrie wasn’t sitting next to her. Instead, Leia Organa was. 

“Ugh.” It even hurt to _groan._ “Not you again.” 

“You shouldn’t talk,” Leia said. “You sound terrible.”

“Yeah, that’s what everyone is saying,” Aphra rasped. At least she wasn’t wheezing every time she spoke. “It’s like a conspiracy or something.” 

Leia sighed wearily. 

“Luke went to build his lightsaber,” she said. 

“Lightsaber?” Aphra echoed, trying to grasp what Leia meant. Luke didn’t have access to a lightsaber; he’d told her that multiple times. And then there was this knowledge that lightsabers...had to be _built._ Constructed, in a _technical_ sort of way. 

Aphra almost grinned. So being a Jedi wasn’t _just_ a ton of mumbo jumbo, then, was it? 

“I got the supplies from his room at the base,” Leia explained. “He’ll have to take some time--he doesn’t even think he can do it--but if he’s got a lightsaber, then that’s one more weapon we have against the dragons.” 

“Right,” Aphra said flatly. “He’s going to kill a dragon...when he can’t even stand up.” 

Leia gave her an exasperated look. “Don’t fight me on that; I feel guilty enough. It’s the best chance we have!” 

“I know, I know.” Aphra shook her head and swallowed several times; she didn’t want to start coughing again. “As always, no one listens to me.” 

“I told you it’s the only option,” Leia snapped. “And what do you mean, _no one_ listens to you?”

“Oh, let’s see. I told my associate this lab was too dangerous to spy on; he said it wasn’t. Now he’s dead. I told the scientists they shouldn’t have engineered dragons; they said it was safe. Now they’re dead. I told Luke a million times not to save the people; now he’s injured in five places, he’s traumatized, and he’s probably going to die.” Aphra stared up at the ceiling. “Like I said. No one listens.” 

Leia was silent for a while. Good. Aphra didn’t want to talk to her right now. 

“Like I said, I don’t like it,” Leia said quietly after a while. “I don’t want Luke to have to do anything. And we’re _all_ taking on the dragons, not just him. But...it _will_ make things better…” 

She trailed off, as if she didn’t quite believe herself. 

“Oh, I know it’s the only option,” Aphra said, turning to look at Leia. “It’s a product of the shitty situation we’ve gotten ourselves into. Why should there be any better options?”

Leia stared at her; Aphra could tell a thought had come into her head. 

Then she looked away. 

“Uh,” Aphra said, then coughed. She’d talked too much without water. “Can I help you?”

Absent-mindedly, Leia handed Aphra a glass of water. She downed it in several seconds. 

“No options,” Leia muttered, half to herself. “There’s always another option, always another option--”

 _“Can I help you?”_ Aphra said again. 

“There’s always another option,” Leia said, turning back to look at Aphra again. “Always. And we--we’ve been doing it wrong this whole time.” 

“Wrong,” Aphra echoed. “Doing _what_ wrong?”

“We’ve been hunting down the Alpha,” Leia said. “We’ve been hunting down the Canyon krayts, hunting all the dragons, and wasting energy and time doing it…”

Aphra sat up. 

“Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head. “ _God,_ no.” 

“When we could have been _drawing_ them to us ourselves,” Leia finished proudly.

Besides her throat, Aphra wasn’t in any pain. She got out of bed. 

“No!” she told Leia fiercely. “No, no, no, no, no--”

“You can deny it all you want.” Leia crossed her arms over her chest. “But it’s the obvious answer.” 

Aphra laughed nervously. “No, it’s not! You want to bring _all the dragons here?_ Even if you could figure out a way to do that, do you _understand how insane that is?”_

“Of course I do.” Leia smirked. “But I thought you wanted another option.” 

Aphra threw her arms in the air. “I did not want another option! That’s not at _all_ what I said!” 

“Well, we’re doing it,” Leia said. 

“No,” Aphra told her. “No. No, we are not bringing the dragons here.”

“Bring them here?” Leia frowned. “When did I say that?”

“You--” She hadn’t. Aphra had just assumed it. 

“Where…” Leia sighed. “This might be a difficult question. But where was Doctor Pandaki killed? Where did you find him?”

Aphra swallowed. “The Canyon krayts’ den. About...fifteen miles east of here. Towards the middle of the jungle.” 

“We’ll go right there,” Leia said. “We’ll find the den and lay a trap; but _only_ for the Canyon krayts. That way, we don’t have too much to deal with, and Luke can get the Alpha.” 

“Only for the Canyon krayts?” Aphra frowned. “How do we do that?”

“Simple. There are eggs in there, right?” Leia smiled. “And what gets a parent angrier than someone threatening their child?”

Aphra opened her mouth. The words died on her tongue. 

From Vader’s point of view, from his _insanely skewed point of view..._ she had _done that._

That was crazily messed up. That was so, so messed up. 

“Aphra?” Leia said again. 

“Yeah,” she said, snapping herself out of her train of thought. “Yeah, yeah.” Then she thought about what Leia was saying. “You know, that’s certifiably insane.”

“Of course.” 

Aphra smiled. “But it just might work.” 

  
  
  


It took at least an hour, maybe more than that, but finally, at long last, the lightsaber hilt had been constructed. 

Luke held it in his hand. It was small, lighter than...than his _father’s_ had been; but he liked it. He liked the feel of the belt ring under his hands, he liked the narrow shape of the crystal lens, he liked the roundness of the emitter matrix. But ultimately, the lightsaber hilt just felt...right. 

But now it was time for the crystal. 

Luke took a deep breath and looked down at it. What the hell was he even supposed to _do?_ What if nothing happened? 

But that wasn’t his biggest fear. Not by a long shot. 

What happened...if the crystal turned red? 

He was almost afraid to find out. There was no guarantee that would happen, no guarantee at all...but what if it did? 

That would prove Vader right. It would prove _everything_ he’d said right: that Luke was destined for the Dark Side, that Luke was exactly like him, that Luke would reach his true potential and become powerful _only_ if he tapped into the Dark Side.

Luke didn’t want that. He didn’t want that at all. 

But the more he thought about it, the more likely he realized it was to happen. He had struggled with the Force, had struggled to learn on his own, to learn from Yoda. He hadn’t been able to fight the dragons well at all; but then he’d attacked with anger, and the Canyon krayts had gone flying into the wall, back in the hospital. He hadn’t been able to stop Vader from killing Aphra...but then he’d used the Dark Side, and he’d saved Aphra’s life. 

_It’s not right...it’s not right…_

“I...I’m exactly like my mother.” Luke repeated Sola’s words shakily; but said in his voice, they didn’t seem to have as much power. “I’m a wonderful...person--”

He didn’t believe that. Not deep down. 

“I don’t deserve Vader as my father, I’m nothing like him--”

_You are everything like him._

_You just can’t accept it, can’t you? From the day you were born you’ve been destined for evil!_

Hopelessly, Luke looked down at the crystal. 

“Help me,” he whispered into the darkness. “Someone help me, please-- _I don’t want to be like him!”_

“You are not,” said a familiar voice from the shadows. 

There was a blue glow over him. Luke turned around...and there, standing--or hovering--above him, was the spirit of Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

  
  
  


“Obi-Wan,” Luke breathed. “You...you…”

This was the first time he’d seen him in over a month--the first time since Bespin. And suddenly, with that realization, Luke was very, _very_ angry. 

“Why?” he demanded. “Why in the _hell didn’t you tell me?”_

Obi-Wan looked at him sadly. 

“Because,” he said, “I was too weak.” 

“What?” Luke whispered. 

Obi-Wan’s ghost sat down beside him; that was a relief, because Luke was already sick of craning his neck. 

“I did not want to lie to you,” Obi-Wan said. “The first day I met you on Tatooine, I couldn’t have told you the truth; Princess Leia was in need of assistance, the Death Star was growing more powerful, and had I told you the truth--”

“I wouldn’t have come with you.” Luke hung his head. 

As difficult as that was to accept, it was obvious; he remembered what he’d been like then. He already worshipped his father, he’d just met someone who knew him...if Obi-Wan had told him _Darth Vader_ was his father...that would have broken him. Even more than it had broken him on Bespin. 

“But then,” he said, “why--”

“I meant to tell you,” Obi-Wan continued. He looked wearier than Luke had ever seen him look in life. “I did. After the Death Star was destroyed, I told myself I would tell you. I would know the moment when it came...but then it never did.” 

“Of course it did,” Luke snapped. “You know how determined I was to go after him, to save my friends. Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“As I said.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “I...I was weak.” 

“You said that. But _what does that mean?”_

“Vader…” Obi-Wan sighed. _“Anakin_ was my friend. I had not believed that he could ever turn against me. I knew that he had weaknesses. I knew that he was angry, that he harbored great resentment against the Jedi...but I believed I had taught him well. And you must understand, Luke, that in those days, to turn against the Jedi, to _leave--_ it was unthinkable. But even then, when Jedi left the Order they did so peacefully. For the most part.” He stared off into the distance. “They did not do it by slaughtering the rest of the Jedi.” 

Obi-Wan still was not looking at him, and he was...well, he was dead; but Luke felt as though he had never understood his former teacher until that moment. He could almost picture the Obi-Wan of twenty-three years ago: a young man, confident in his Order, confident in his pupil, his friend...who had betrayed him by murdering thousands. 

Obi-Wan had been in shock. 

That was a feeling Luke knew intimately.

“I called him Vader not only for you,” Obi-Wan said. “It was for me as well. It was the only way I could accept what had happened: to call him someone else, to pretend that it was not my friend who had murdered the Jedi and enslaved the galaxy, but a monster.” 

His friend had become a killer almost overnight. 

But if that were true...then what had Vader...what had _Anakin_ been before? And if he had done that, so suddenly…

“That doesn’t help me,” Luke said. “And I still wish you’d told me.” 

“I know it was selfish.” Obi-Wan sighed, and at last turned to look at him. “I know that. And the way you found out was...not preferable. Vader told you mercilessly and without remorse, the way that he does everything; it was only for himself, as always. He did not care about your own feelings. It was...it was cruel, for you to find out that way.” 

Luke tried not to think about what it had felt like. He tried not to remember his world collapsing in on itself, his soul being torn apart. He failed. 

“But you are not like him, Luke,” Obi-Wan said. “Have no fear.” 

“Have no _fear?”_ Luke knew he sounded angry, that he _was_ angry. He didn’t care. “He tried to kill my friend, and I used the Dark Side! I wasn’t strong enough with the Light. I wasn’t.” He bowed his head. “I _wasn’t.”_

“Vader,” Obi-Wan said severely, “has gotten in your head.” 

Luke raised his head sharply. “He hasn’t.” 

“He has, if that is what you believe. And I do not fault you; he has been filling your head with lies for every day you have been forced to spend with him. It is only natural you would listen. You have longed for your father all your life. But, Luke…” Obi-Wan sighed. “I want you to see something.” 

“What do you--” Luke started, and then Obi-Wan’s ghostly hand came up to his head. It didn’t feel like an ordinary hand--more like a breath of air. But suddenly, he wasn’t sitting in the cave. 

He was in a large, round, well-lit room. 

He was standing on the sidelines, watching a boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen years old; and an older man, standing at his side. An older man, who was...Obi-Wan, Luke realized. It was Obi-Wan. He was much younger, but it was very clearly Obi-Wan. 

“I know you wanted this mission,” Obi-Wan said. “But you must stay here. You must accept the Council’s wishes.” 

“They don’t want me to take it,” spat the boy. His demeanor was...slightly familiar. “Of course. Why am I surprised?”

“Anakin,” the man chastised him. “Be respectful.” 

Luke gasped. _Anakin?_

This was...this...this was his _father?_

This was _Darth Vader?_

“Just because you are the Chosen One does not mean the Council will give you every assignment. This one is particularly dangerous--”

“Dangerous?” Anakin snorted. “For you, maybe.” 

Luke’s eyes widened. Now _that_ he recognized. 

“Do not overestimate your abilities, young one,” Obi-Wan said, and Luke suddenly knew where his father had gotten _that_ annoying term from. “Perhaps it will be better for you to stay; for me to go alone, and for you to meditate. It will give you some practice with your patience, which you _desperately_ need.” 

But Anakin shook his head. “I disagree.” 

Luke was shocked. What...who was this? _Vader_ was a man who preached duty and destiny at every possible moment...and yet Anakin was someone who questioned even his master’s orders. 

What had _happened?_

“I think this mission is too dangerous for you to take alone,” he said. “The Force is telling me to go.” 

“Then you need to listen more to the Force,” Obi-Wan chided him. “Come. You still need to run through your exercises.” 

There was another breath of air, and Luke was back in the cave. 

“Well, he--” Luke shook his head, trying to get over the shock of seeing _Anakin Skywalker._ “He was obviously wrong. You’d gotten your orders from the Council! He needed to listen to you.” 

But Obi-Wan shook his head. 

“Anakin was right,” he said, and Luke did a double take. 

“Right?” he echoed. “He--he was _right?”_

“He spoke to Master Yoda the following morning,” Obi-Wan said. “And the next thing I knew, I had received new orders: I was to take Anakin with me. It was just as well, too; upon arrival, we were ambushed by several mercenaries and separated; I was placed in a prison cell. Anakin escaped, and broke in to rescue me several hours later. If not for him, I would have died in that cell.” 

Luke could only stare at Obi-Wan. 

This...this was not his father at all. Vader had told him his friends did not matter, that no one could help him except himself; but he had cared about Obi-Wan so much that he had convinced Yoda to be sent with him, and had then rescued him from prison. 

Clearly, something had happened to him. Something awful. 

But Luke still couldn’t separate him from the man who had almost killed Aphra, who had backhanded him, who had...who had almost killed _him._

“The point,” Obi-Wan said, “is that, yes, Anakin is your father.” 

Luke did not want to connect those two people. Suddenly, he understood why Obi-Wan had so desperately decided to call him only Vader, and to forget he and Anakin were the same person. 

“But that does not mean you have to accept what he tells you,” he said. “And you must also understand...the boy that I showed you does not exist any longer. He is, essentially, dead.”

Luke nodded slowly. It was hard to believe; but the vision had been for a lesson. Nothing more. And there was no way, _no way,_ that Vader was anything like Anakin. All the facts told Luke the opposite. 

“You are nothing like him,” Obi-Wan finished. 

Luke groaned. “You’ve told me that already, you’ve told me that! But what does it--”

“Patience,” Obi-Wan told him. 

Luke fell silent. His teacher was right. 

“Luke,” he said, “there is something you must understand. I lived my entire life as a Jedi. I devoted my life to the teachings of the Order; and when it was over, I devoted my life to saving the Jedi. But in all that time...I was not perfect. I was put in some situations, during the Clone Wars, and occasionally, _occasionally..._ I fell under the grip of the Dark Side myself.” 

Luke’s mouth fell open. 

He hadn’t expected that. 

“You are not perfect,” Obi-Wan said. “And that is not license to forget what you have learned, to not _try_ to follow the Jedi; but the mistake that I made with your father was in trying to make him follow all the teachings of the Jedi, to not make mistakes. And that...that was wrong.” 

Luke could only stare at Obi-Wan. What...what was he…

“You will make mistakes, Luke,” Obi-Wan said kindly. “You will. But as long as you learn from them, as long as you are _truly sorry..._ it is just as if those mistakes never happened.” 

Luke’s mind was spinning. He almost couldn’t wrap his head around it, but...it was everything he’d wanted to hear. Everything he had wanted to be told. 

And best of all, it made sense. 

There was something wet on his face; there were tears in his eyes, Luke realized. But for the first time since Bespin, the first time in a long time...they were happy tears. 

“So,” he said, “so, with Aphra…” 

“It was only a mistake,” Obi-Wan said, “at a time when you had been pushed to the brink, driven to exhaustion, pushed and shoved and pressured by your father to do things you did not want to do. And he was killing your friend. You should have used the Light, yes. But in that moment...you used the Dark. And then the moment was gone. You did save your friend. And afterwards, you have shown nothing, _nothing,_ but remorse. But more than that, you have shown utter selflessness, you have shown compassion; you have shown a deep desire only to help others.” Obi-Wan smiled. “Luke Skywalker, you are a much better Jedi than I ever was, at any moment in my life.” 

Luke didn’t know what to say to that. He almost couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know whether to laugh, or cry...or both. 

“I--I--” He shook his head. “I don’t believe it.” 

He’d said that to Yoda, too. He’d said that to Yoda...and then, he’d received the response: _That is why you fail._

Luke didn’t know what all of this meant, yet. But he did know that Obi-Wan was right. He was nothing like his father; but even if he _was,_ he would make himself better. Because, obviously, Vader hadn’t been able to move past his mistakes. 

“No,” he said. “No. I do believe it.” He looked down at the crystal. “So all I have to do is...meditate?”

“Meditate on yourself,” Obi-Wan said. “Meditate on what I have told you, and what you believe; find the Light in the Force, and immerse yourself in it. And then you will see how to place the crystal in the hilt, and it will turn blue, green, or else one of the more rare colors.” He smiled. “I have complete faith that you will do well.” 

“Thanks,” Luke said. He wiped a stray tear from his eye. “And…” He sighed. “In terms of you not telling me, I--I forgive you.” 

Obi-Wan bowed slightly, from his position. “Thank you, then, in return. I should have told you.” He clasped his hands together. “And on that note, there is something else you should know as well.” 

Luke frowned. “What is it?”

“Look inside yourself,” Obi-Wan said. “Think on your friends, and you will find it. But if you do not realize it before defeating the dragons...I will speak to you afterwards, and tell you myself. I am done keeping secrets from you. But you also have a great task ahead of you, and you must succeed there, first.” 

“But--” Luke realized Obi-Wan was leaving; his ghostly form was starting to vanish. “But I have more questions! You can’t leave me!” 

“I am always with you,” whispered a voice on the wind; and then, just like that, Obi-Wan was gone. 

And then Luke turned his attention to the crystal in front of him. 

“My mistakes don’t define me,” he whispered. “My mistakes do not define me.” He imagined that he was speaking to the Force itself. “I will not let myself surrender to anger again.”

But if he did...then he would accept what he had done, and move past it. 

It didn’t matter who his father was. It didn’t matter who his mother was. 

The only thing that mattered...was who _he was._

Luke looked at the crystal. He stared at it, soaked its image into his mind...and then, he closed his eyes. 

_I am a Jedi._

_My mistakes don’t define me._

_My heritage doesn’t define me._

_I am Luke Skywalker, and I am a Jedi…_

And suddenly, images flitted across his vision. Luke saw Anakin; he saw his father in the past, challenging Obi-Wan’s opinions, and he saw his father now, killing Aphra, about to kill Luke. 

He saw Obi-Wan, a man so connected to the Jedi...and yet so misled, believing his friend to be beyond corruption; so misled that it had almost destroyed him. 

He imagined his mother, though he had never seen her; he imagined that she looked like Sola, but...softer. Softer, and full of hope. 

She had not been a fool, Luke realized. The Anakin he had seen in Obi-Wan’s memory did not exist any longer. For better or worse, that Anakin was dead. 

He saw Han, screaming in pain as he’d seen in the vision...but then he saw something that had slipped by him when he was so horrified for his friends. He saw Han asking about him, being furious at Lando because it was Luke who was in danger. 

Han, who was so, so close to being rescued. 

He saw Leia, so angry, so determined, so...something. 

_Leia,_ something whispered. _Leia._

It didn’t say anything further. But this was the secret; this was what Obi-Wan had been pointing him to. 

Not now. But later...later, he would come back to it. 

He saw the vision. He saw endless hallways, he heard Ruya screaming, saw Leia and Aphra running endlessly through the jungle; they were in danger, and he needed to get back to them. 

And to do that, he had to make this lightsaber. 

He saw Owen and Beru, probably knowing what Vader was, determined to keep him away from his father. 

And he saw himself. He saw a child staring up at the stars, longing to be like his father. 

And then, Luke understood the real, full truth. That had never been the point. 

Wanting to be like his father had...it had been a terrible goal. 

It would have been harmful whether or not his father was even a good person or not. Wanting to be exactly like one’s parents was not _good._ That was not the point. 

The point was to try to be _better_ than his father. 

It would have been easy to hate Vader for being his father, for being so terrible, to want to be better just for spite; it would have been easy. But then, the Dark Side was easy. 

What was difficult was to accept that it didn’t matter. 

None of what his father was mattered...not this second, at least. He would never love Luke like a father, would never care...and in light of this lightsaber, in light of the future, _that didn’t matter._

All that mattered was himself. 

_The cave._

The vision, the vision that day in the cave--suddenly, with overwhelming clarity, Luke knew what it meant. 

Before defeating his father, before defeating Vader...he had to defeat _himself._

He couldn’t even begin to tell Vader what was wrong with the Dark Side...because there was darkness in him. And until this moment, it had gone unaddressed. 

And now he knew what it meant. 

He would see the darkness...and he would accept it. 

_That darkness is a part of me. But I don’t have to listen to it. And if I happen to, every now and then...it won’t be when it matters._

_And I’ll never let that drag me down._

_I have made mistakes; but I can’t take them back. I wish I could._

_All that matters is what I do in the future._

Luke saw himself back in the cave, saw his own face in Darth Vader’s helmet...and he understood. That hadn’t been a hint of the truth--well, it had been, but more than that it had been a message to him. 

He couldn’t even address Vader’s darkness before seeing his own. 

And now that he knew the darkness in him...all he saw was the light. 

There was a tug, a pull somewhere inside him; and suddenly Luke felt a connection to the Force, to the Light, stronger than he had ever felt it before. In that moment, he felt that he was part of the Force; and in return, that it was a part of him. 

Luke opened his eyes. 

The crystal hovered in front of him...and it glowed green. 

He grinned. When explaining the colors, Obi-Wan had told him what green meant: it meant peace, and focus. 

This was who he was. And he was more than happy about it. 

Slowly, keeping the crystal hovering in the air, Luke manipulated the lightsaber hilt apart...just enough to fit the crystal into the power cell. It was difficult, to keep the parts separate, to control them individually; but he knew that he could do it. The Force was with him...the _Light_ was with him, and it did not make him weak. 

It made him strong. 

_Father,_ he thought, almost giddily, _you’re wrong._

There was a burst of light. Luke cringed away from it, closing his eyes slightly; and when he opened them, there was a lightsaber hilt lying on the ground. 

No. Not just a hilt. 

A _lightsaber._

Slowly, almost unable to believe it, Luke lifted the hilt.

His leg still hurt. But when he cast out his senses, he knew that Chewie was not there. Something had happened.

His friends were in danger. And he was going to save them. 

He was going to kill the dragons. 

Gripping the wall, Luke dragged himself to his feet; and to his surprise, his leg hurt...less. The wound was still there, the infection was still there, but not nearly as bad as before. 

He had been so immersed in the Force...he must have begun to heal his leg. 

He’d get to it soon. But for now…

Luke looked down at his lightsaber. _His._ Then he pressed the button on the hilt.

A brilliant emerald blade sprang forth to meet him. 

A grin spread across his face. 

“Mine,” he said. “This is _my_ lightsaber. I did it.” 

He wasn’t borrowing his father’s any longer. He was going to forge his own path, regardless of what his father thought of him. 

Slowly, wielding the lightsaber, Luke walked to the edge of the cave. 

He was going to kill the Alpha. 

  
  


Vader did not know how long he had searched for his son; all he knew was that he could not stop. He could not let the dragons kill Luke, and he had to speak to him. He had to explain, if he could; he had a little less than two days. He must find Luke. 

But he could not find him. Whenever he thought he sensed him, then Luke went somewhere else, and he had to find a new path. 

And then, when he had wandered far enough, when he had searched every inch of the jungle he could find...their bond flared to life. Vader reached for it instantly...but Luke was not focused on him. He didn’t even know he was accessing their bond. 

He was immersed in the Light. 

_Father._ The thought reached Vader, and it was Luke’s; but it was not directly aimed at him, and that stung more than anything. _You’re wrong._

And then there was silence. 

But now, Vader knew where Luke was. 

_I will find you,_ he thought. _I will find you, and then no harm will come to you again. You will be safe--from the dragons, and from Palpatine. I will make sure of it._

Feeling more hopeful than he’d felt the last several hours, Vader turned and strode in the direction of his son’s presence. 

The cave was only several miles away. It wouldn’t take him long. 

And then his son would not escape him again. This was an awful situation, far, far worse than he had ever anticipated; but he would fix it.

He was good at fixing things, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a couple notes: I completely bullshitted the stuff with the Force in this chapter. I just thought it was all super neat, and you're welcome to disagree; but it fit nicely into this chapter and gave Luke an AWESOME moment, so no regerts  
> Second, this is the longest chapter of this fic so far I'm so sorry lmao. I just...I don't care. Because I loved writing it  
> Thanks for reading! <3


	41. Sixth Iteration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia and Aphra leave to draw the Canyon krayts to them; Vader has a difficult conversation.

Leia wanted to leave immediately, but it was obvious that they couldn’t do that; and besides, the dragons didn’t hunt during the day. So they waited around, and for all their sakes, she hoped Luke took a while building his lightsaber. On the one hand, she wanted to be sure they had a lightsaber on their side; but on the other, if Luke found out what they were up to, he’d either do everything in his power to stop them...or else he’d come with them. 

Leia wasn’t sure which option was worse. 

But Luke didn’t return, and they couldn’t spend the day doing nothing; once night came, they had quite the job to do. So, naturally, they got to planning. It was an easy fix--Leia just told Sola that she was worried about Aphra, and wanted to watch over her...and for the most part, they were left alone. 

“So,” she said after Sola left for the first time. “We have one objective. Anger the parents. Because...what did Pandaki say? The Canyon krayts and the Alpha--”

“Have mated.” Aphra buried her face in her hands with a groan. “Which was  _ supposed  _ to be impossible. The scientists engineered the dragons to be female, so that they couldn’t produce children, but do you really expect to be able to control animals like that? Krayt dragons were born to be predators, not a science experiment. Of course they’d find a way to change gender so they could mate--it’s what biology does.” 

“Okay...uh, anyway,” Leia said, deciding to cut Aphra off before she went into another tirade. “The Canyon krayts--or some of them--mated with the Alpha, and all those eggs are currently in an underground cave.” She blinked. “This...this is a different cave than the one we sent Luke off to, right?”

“Obviously,” Aphra said irritably; she seemed offended that Leia had even suggested it. “I know exactly where it is, and there seem to be hidden caves all over this jungle. You really think I’d let Luke, our only hope, Luke who can  _ barely walk,  _ off to a dragon’s den? Really?”

“No,” Leia said, trying to stay patient. “But I had to make sure.” She sighed. “So...if you know where this cave is…how do we get there?”

“Well, I don’t know  _ exactly  _ where it is,” Aphra said, and Leia raised her eyebrows. “But when I spoke to Pandaki...I know he went straight into the jungle from where he’d left his ship at the hospital, which means it’s about…” Aphra frowned. “Holy shit.” 

“Watch it,” Leia warned her, because Ruya had just passed through the area a few minutes ago. “But...what is it?”

“This is almost too perfect,” Aphra said. “But the den is at the very  _ center  _ of the jungle.” 

Leia frowned. It...it  _ was  _ too perfect. These dragons were smarter than any creatures she’d met. Even the one who was supposed to be stupid, the Greater krayt, had figured out they were trying to use the acid on her. 

“You do realize,” she said, “that the center of the jungle is probably bound to be full of dragons? Once we bring the krayts to us, we’re going to have a hell of a time getting away from them.” 

“Well,” Aphra said grimly. “At least we’ll have some cover.”

They waited several more hours, tolerated conversations with Amil and Sola; and when Aphra took a short nap, Leia went over to make sure Artoo’s circuits were functioning well. The droid  _ had  _ been running from dragons and traveling across a jungle planet for four days, after all. 

_ I know what you’re doing,  _ Artoo told her. 

Leia frowned. “What?”

_ You are going to deceive the others and try to put yourself in the dragons’ way. That is not wise.  _

Leia jolted in surprise; but then, she wondered why she was even surprised. This was Artoo, the droid who had no qualms about arguing with Darth Vader. Of course he would figure out what they were planning. 

But Leia couldn’t let  _ anyone  _ stop them. 

“We’re doing it for Luke,” she said. “So that he doesn’t have to do as much.” 

_ And why have you not told the others? _

“Because they wouldn’t want us to go.”

_ And why would they not want you to go?  _

“Because…” Leia’s shoulder slumped. “They know it’s dangerous.”

Leia sighed. Why? Why did Luke have to have such an opinionated droid? And how dare Artoo try to use  _ logic  _ to convince her to stop her plan? 

Because he knew how she worked. That’s why. 

_ So, there. It is not a good idea to go.  _

Oh, she knew that. But Artoo just didn’t understand. 

“Listen up, you little shit,” she hissed, leaning forward. “I get that you just want to protect us. I get that it’s dangerous. But if we don’t try to draw the Canyon krayts to us to deal with, Luke will have both them  _ and  _ the Alpha to fight off. Do you really want that? Do you?”

_ No. But drawing the dragons to us is significantly dangerous. Your life will be at risk.  _

“Of course it will. But I’ll be with Aphra, and we’re going to do it. And, if you try to tell anyone what we’re doing, if you try to stop us, I’ll shut you down until the dragons are dead. I’ll do it. I know how. I don’t want to do it, but I will, because  _ we are going after the dragons.”  _

Artoo leaned back from her with a distinctly disappointed  _ blatt.  _

“You can be as disappointed as you want,” Leia told him. “I don’t care.” 

She did care. She liked the little droid; but these were desperate times. With a sigh, Leia finished cleaning him off and stood up. 

“There,” she said. “Now. Don’t stop us, please.” 

_ This is a bad idea and you know it.  _

Artoo did not need to talk to her like she was a child. Crossing her arms, Leia turned to face the viewport; it was dark outside. 

Perfect. 

She looked both ways for Sola, Amil, Wedge, or anyone else who might stop them; none of them were around. Then, picking up the acid blaster, she ran back into the medbay. 

Aphra was sitting up, an eager expression on her face. 

“Is it time?” she asked. 

“It’s time,” Leia said. “Let’s move out.” 

  
  
  


Artoo had promised Leia Organa that he would not tell anyone on the ship. He had not wanted to promise that; but he also did not want to be shut down. So, he was willing to honor that promise. 

But, fortunately, Chewbacca was not on the ship. 

Artoo waited until Leia and the crabby doctor had left. Then, he plugged himself into the central console and waited until he heard the Wookiee’s growl. 

_ What is wrong? I am with the cub.  _

“Master Luke is the least of our problems,” Artoo said. “The Princess and her doctor friend are making a catastrophically bad mistake. They are planning to attack the dragons’ den to draw some of the dragons to them to be killed.” 

Chewbacca’s answering roar was almost too indecipherable to translate. 

Good. He was rightfully angry. 

_ Leave the ship immediately. I will come in your direction. Follow my trail.  _

“Copy that,” Artoo said. 

Unplugging himself, he turned around. Threepio was waiting there. 

_ What is happening? _ Threepio asked, sounding as worried as usual.  _ Princess Leia is missing!  _

“I am aware,” Artoo said. “I am leaving immediately. I will meet Chewbacca.” 

_ Wait for me!  _ Threepio said, hurrying after Artoo as he rolled through the  _ Falcon’s  _ corridors.  _ I won’t let you go alone, Artoo. You’ll never survive!  _

Artoo couldn’t let him do that. He didn’t want Threepio to be attacked or injured by any dragons; he could not bear the thought of that. 

“That’s absurd,” was what he said. “You aren’t nearly skilled enough to risk dragons. I have fought one and survived. I even defeated it.” 

_ Well, you cannot expect me to stay here and do nothing! _

That was logical. In addition, Artoo thought there might be something Threepio could do. 

“You will not do nothing,” he said. “Tell Wedge Antilles and Sola Naberrie what has happened. Tell them not to move the ship, but that they must get it ready.” 

Threepio looked slightly hesitant, but he gave a jerky nod nonetheless. 

_ Very well. I will do that. But please, Artoo, please be safe! The dragons are very dangerous!  _

“So am I,” Artoo retorted, and wheeled himself off the  _ Falcon.  _

  
  


Leia and Aphra walked for what seemed like hours. They left the  _ Falcon  _ with little incident; at first, Leia thought that someone was following them, but multiple searches informed her that it was no one, and they proceeded on their way. 

It was the most terrifying thing she had done--besides, of course, deciding to turn the  _ Falcon  _ around at Bespin and flying right towards the Empire. And both times, it had been for Luke. But this time, it was maybe more terrifying, partly because Leia had no idea what she was doing. She knew what she wanted to accomplish, roughly, but she didn’t have an exact plan; and, furthermore, there was the fact that she was blindly following Aphra, a woman she still did not entirely trust, into the heart of the dragons’ lair,  _ while the dragons were awake.  _

“Are we almost there?” Leia asked for perhaps the tenth time. The light was almost completely gone. 

“You asked me that two minutes ago,” Aphra hissed. “And like I said the first time, we get there when we get there!” 

“Okay, fine,” Leia muttered. “But if you look at--”

“I  _ know  _ how dark it is, thanks. I can’t do anything about it.  _ You  _ were the one who wanted us to leave at dusk anyway.” 

Leia didn’t have a response to that. Aphra was right. 

They continued on. Every few seconds, she had to resist the urge to look over her shoulder; and each time she breathed louder than usual, each time she accidentally stepped on a leaf, she was terrified that one of the dragons had heard her and would be on their way. Each time that happened, she found herself reaching for the acid blaster at her side. 

_ Stop it,  _ she told herself.  _ There’s no reason to be that terrified--you’ll know when they show up, so you can stop reacting like a jumpy animal.  _

Then something rustled in the bushes, and Leia touched the blaster again. 

_ All we have to do is get to the den. Just get there… _

But that was far from the end of their problems. Once they got to the den, they’d actually have to carry out their mission…

And then they’d have to  _ fight  _ the dragons. In the dark. 

_ This was a terrible idea, THIS IS A TERRIBLE IDEA-- _

Finally they stopped, and no dragons had attacked them. 

“Here we are,” Aphra said quietly. “Pandaki’s footprints led back here.” 

She’d been following his footprints? In the  _ dark?  _ Leia tried not to look at Aphra with admiration, but--she might be annoying, but she was good at what she did. 

Wiping the sweat from her face, Leia drew out a light, turned it on, and peered down. 

They were standing over a small hole in the ground. It was half hidden from their sight, partially covered by grass; a good spot, overall, for a hideout. Leia wondered how Pandaki had ever found it--and then she wondered how the Canyon krayts could fit in such a small space. 

“Come on,” Aphra said. “Let’s get down there.” 

Leia helped Aphra down the hole, climbed down herself; and then she knew the answer to her second question. The space they were standing in could barely fit them...but further on, the den’s roof sloped upward and continued on. She couldn’t see the end of it. 

And scattered throughout the den were dozens upon dozens of eggs. 

Leia almost screamed. How terrifying, how absolutely terrifying--there were at least fifty  _ baby dragons  _ in here, and judging by the size of the eggs, they were nearly ready to hatch. 

“All right,” Aphra said. “What’s your plan?”

The plan. Right. Draw the  _ adult  _ Canyon krayts to them. This had been a terrible idea; and despite herself, all Leia wanted was to turn around and run back to the  _ Falcon,  _ where it was safe. 

_ “I’m the last Jedi. Either I make this lightsaber, or we all die.”  _

The dragons were a threat--the dragons had been a threat to everyone on this planet, for four days. And until they were dead, they would continue to be a threat; not just to their small group, but to everyone in the hospital, and if the dragons decided to venture out of this facility, to everyone on the planet. 

Who was she kidding? The  _ Falcon  _ wasn’t safe.  _ Nowhere  _ was safe, until the dragons were dead. 

_ Do you want the dragons dead?  _ Leia asked herself.  _ Do you want to be safe? Do you want  _ Luke  _ to be safe?  _

_ Then kill the dragons.  _

“Leia?” Aphra said again. “Are you all right?” She scoffed. “This was your idea, after all--”

“It was. And we’re going to do it.” Leia turned around. “Here’s the situation. We need to kill the dragons.” 

“Yeah. Thanks, Captain Obvious.” 

Leia decided to ignore Aphra’s sarcasm in favor of time. “But the thing is...the dragons aren’t just the ones out there.” 

She saw the moment it dawned on Aphra. 

“Right,” Aphra murmured. “There are at least sixty in here. And...and they’re close to hatching.” She shook her head. “But we’re only harming one of them.” 

“No.” Leia looked down at one of the eggs; she could just make out the form of a baby krayt dragon in there, its lethal limbs curled up. Ready to hatch. 

Ready to kill. 

“No,” she said again. “We’re not. We’re going to kill them all, and I know exactly how we’re going to do it.” She smiled at the stunned archaeologist. “Got any matches?”

  
  


Chewbacca. Where was Chewbacca?

Something had happened during the hours he’d spent building his lightsaber. Luke clenched his teeth. Whatever it was, he’d take care of it; but at the moment, he had to figure out just  _ what was going on.  _ If he didn’t know where Chewie had gone, then--

The sudden awareness of a dark  _ something  _ blotted out all his thoughts. 

Vader, Luke thought, as that familiar terror seized his chest. Vader was coming. Vader was determined either to turn him, or to kill him, or--

_ Yes, Anakin is your father.  _

_ But that does not mean you have to accept what he tells you.  _

No. 

He was his own person; and furthermore, he was wielding his own lightsaber. Vader did not do that. And someday, Luke would face him, with that very lightsaber.

But that would have to wait. 

Luke closed his eyes. He pictured his friends…

_ Danger.  _

Leia was running--running from something, a blaster in her hand--

Luke opened his eyes. Leia was in danger, Chewie was in danger, possibly the others as well; he had to save them. He might be wounded, but he had a new lightsaber. 

And Vader, quite clearly, would try to stop him. Luke couldn’t let him. 

_ Vader doesn’t matter. It’s you--right now, it’s only you. You and the Force.  _

Luke stared into the brilliant green of his blade, letting the sight of it calm him; and then, once again, he surrendered himself to the Force. He concentrated his presence on the place where he was, centered it; and then, just as he felt Vader seize on his location, he spread it thin. 

Immediately, he felt Vader’s confusion. 

_ Now.  _

Luke extinguished his blade, taking a moment to feel almost disappointed when the brilliant blade vanished; then, leaning against the cave’s wall to steady himself, he clipped the lightsaber to his belt. 

He sighed at the feeling of that familiar weight. It was as if something had clicked into place. 

He had a lightsaber at his side once again. All was right in the universe. 

Keeping his presence spread thin across the jungle, and monitoring Vader’s presence--his father couldn’t have been more than a mile away--Luke made sure his lightsaber was secure on his belt. It was. The acid blaster was with Chewie, but at least he had an ordinary blaster of his own; Luke checked the number of blaster bolts in it, then returned that to his belt as well. 

Then he was ready. 

Vader was closing in on him, though he might not have known it; Leia was somewhere to the west; and night was coming. 

Luke took a step forward. Immediately, his leg gave out, and the next thing he knew he was lying on the ground. 

“No,” he said to himself. “No, no,  _ no!”  _

Gritting his teeth, he dragged himself up to his knees; and then his eyes lit on a long, thin branch resting some feet away. It looked about the right height for a walking stick. 

Luke couldn’t have trusted himself to stand up. Instead, he reached out with the Force and pulled the stick to him. He grasped it in his hand; it was thin, certainly, but also sturdy. It would do. 

It would have to. 

Gripping the makeshift cane tightly, Luke dragged himself to his feet, leaned on the cane, staggered...and stayed on his feet. 

_ Now  _ he was ready. 

Setting his jaw, Luke walked forward. Using the cane was...an interesting business, and with every step his leg ached; but it wasn’t as much as before.

This time, he wasn’t letting his stupid injury stop him. 

Besides, every step, while it gave him pain, also took him farther from Vader.

_ Don’t worry, Leia,  _ he thought.  _ I’m coming. _

  
  


“Those krayts will be dead, and Luke won’t have to worry about it.” 

Ruya had woken to those words. 

It was really boring without Luke around. She had thought it would only be an hour at the most; but he stayed away, and there was nothing to do, so eventually she had dropped by the Princess and Doctor Aphra. In the several seconds she was there, she could tell that they were busy, and also that Aphra was not injured anymore. Why else would she be up and talking? 

But what did she mean, the krayts would be  _ dead?  _ Were they...planning to do something about it? 

Ruya listened harder. 

“Then we’ll have to wait until nightfall. That’s when the dragons are awake, so it won’t take long to draw them to us--”

Ruya gasped. 

The Princess and Doctor Aphra...they...they were going after the dragons? Without telling anyone? They could die! 

“--don’t want Sola or anyone else to find out. They’ll stop us. And we have to make sure Luke doesn’t have to fight all the dragons alone.”

Oh. That’s why they were doing it. In that case…

Ruya was going to help them do it. 

But they were right; Ruya’s mother might quickly find out what they were up to. So if they were going to succeed, and if Ruya was going to help them…

Then she had to distract her mother. 

Distracting Mama was easier than she had thought. As she sat there eavesdropping, her mother came along and ordered Ruya to “stop bothering the ladies,” and then, after they had a cup of tea together, Mama made Ruya take a  _ nap.  _

Ruya had to keep from grinning.  _ That  _ would do the trick. She knew how exhausted her mother was; it was likely that she would be asleep in a few minutes. 

And, as it turned out, that was exactly what happened. All Ruya had to do was pretend to be asleep for several minutes. Pretending to be asleep was one of Ruya’s best skills; over the years of fooling her parents, she had perfected the art of it. She knew how to slowly even out her breathing, second by second; she knew when to slip in a contented sigh, or even a snore; and every time, it worked like a charm. 

In five minutes, Mama was fast asleep. 

But it wasn’t time yet. Ruya waited just a little longer, then began the slow, complicated process of getting up. She moved her legs, inch by inch, over a period of several minutes, until she was standing up, and Mama was curled up on the bed sleeping. Then, tiptoeing quietly, she made her way back to where the Princess and Aphra had been. 

But they were gone. 

The  _ Falcon’s  _ hatch was wide open. 

And it was nightfall. 

They’d left already, and Ruya had missed it. When had it been? How long ago? 

Carefully, Ruya climbed up and peered out; and, to her relief, there they were, making their way across the clearing and into the jungle. In the end, it had turned out...perfectly. 

Ruya grinned. It was time to kill some dragons. 

She climbed down, making sure to be quiet, grabbed a blaster from against the wall, and left the  _ Falcon,  _ disappearing into the night. 

  
  


Luke was escaping. Once more, Luke was escaping him; Vader could sense it. Either that...or else he was doing what he had done before, and had spread his presence thin across the jungle, making him difficult to track. 

But he was not far gone yet. The boy was attempting to trick  _ him.  _

_ You cannot fool me so easily, my son. I know what you are doing; and even if you do manage to escape, you have an injured leg. You will not get far. _

Vader reached out, searching for him; and what he sensed, more than anything, was Luke’s  _ determination.  _ But he could not sense just  _ why  _ Luke was so determined, and when he tried to push--

He drew back in surprise. 

Luke had grown better at keeping his feelings from him. 

Had it been his brief surrender to the Dark Side? Had that finally taught him?

Vader hoped so. It would make things that much easier. He had become tired--tired of fighting Luke, and more desperate as the days wore on. Luke must come with him, he  _ must;  _ but between Luke’s stubbornness and Vader’s own mistakes, that simple goal had grown more difficult. 

He just wanted Luke to come with him.

And he had driven the boy away from him, that had been his fault--but now he was close. He could subdue Luke very easily, could take him with him; and once they were away, once they were  _ off of this planet,  _ he would make things better between them. He would make Luke trust him, at last. 

He had to. 

He had thought it impossible; but now, now Luke was so close. He could feel him. His boy was there, escaping at the moment but not too fast--

Vader hurled a branch to the side with the Force and stepped into the small clearing. There was the cave. 

And Luke was gone. 

His hope almost fled him, but--no. Luke might just be hiding from him. Yes, yes, that must be it; Luke had been unable to leave the cave because of his injury, and had attempted to spread his presence thin. Foolish boy. 

Vader ducked in order to step inside the cave. He barely fit, the top of his helmet scraping the cave’s roof--but he was inside. 

“Luke?” he demanded. “Luke, answer me!” 

But Luke truly  _ was  _ gone. He was not in the cave; he wasn’t anywhere near. Desperately, Vader rushed back outside, walked several meters in every direction...but Luke wasn’t there either. 

And yet, he had left  _ recently.  _

Some way or another, Luke had escaped. He had escaped, he was still on the planet, still near the dragons...but too far away for Vader to get to him quickly. 

Maybe too far away for Vader to get to him at  _ all  _ before it was too late. 

No. No, he would not accept that. He  _ would  _ find him. 

Luke was  _ his son.  _ He belonged with his father; why could he not see that? Vader knew that he had harmed him. He understood that. But Aphra had also threatened them. Couldn’t he see that as well? 

And Vader had tried. He had tried, at last, to tell him what a danger Palpatine posed to him; but Luke had not listened. He was so utterly loyal to his friends,  _ so loyal-- _

_ Why could he not be this loyal to  _ me? 

No. That was not how he could think. Loyalty of that kind was irrational; it would be impossible for them to be any  _ ordinary  _ father and son. Luke’s friends would all be taken from him eventually. Vader could not say that he had consciously been trying to teach him that--he had been angry--but if Aphra had died, he might have started to  _ learn.  _ He wanted Vader to love him, as--as a  _ son.  _ But they were not ordinary, they could not be  as much as he wished it, all that mattered in the grand scheme of the universe was turning Luke to the Dark Side. It was the  _ only  _ way to save him. 

_ But why?  _ something seemed to whisper.  _ Why do you want to save him?  _

“Enough,” he snarled out loud, and his fury was enough that some of the nearby trees began to shake. “There is no  _ why.  _ Luke  _ must  _ turn or he will die.” 

And then, despite himself, Vader reached out to Luke in the Force,  _ wherever he happened to be.  _

**_Listen to me,_ ** Vader told him, and tried to ignore the way Luke’s presence shrank back.  **_You do not understand everything. The Emperor poses a great threat to you. I have only -_ **

_ Thanks,  _ Luke shot back, cutting him off before he could finish.  _ But I’ve already heard that one.  _

And then, he withdrew completely and raised his shields. 

Vader couldn’t breach them. 

"No," he hissed aloud. "You cannot do that. You cannot leave me like that, you--you belong at MY side!"   


“Anakin. Enough.” 

Oh, he knew  _ that  _ voice. 

Vader spun around, furious--and there, in front of the cave, hovered the ghost of Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

“What do you want?” Vader demanded. “You have come to gloat. Is that it?”

“Oh, I might,” Obi-Wan said lightly; he was  _ amused  _ by something. “I would like to. But I would never stoop that low.” 

Vader had thousands of things he would like to say to him; and beyond that, he had a deep, burning desire to kill Obi-Wan all over again, and it was very unfortunate that he could not. 

But something was obvious. 

“You spoke to him,” Vader said, not bothering to keep the fury from his voice.  _ “You  _ spoke to my  _ son. _ You filled his head with lies once again, undid everything I have done--”

“Everything you have done? You have done nothing but make him more afraid of you.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “You still do not understand, do you?”

“I understand perfectly. It is  _ you  _ who does not--”

“You are treating him the way you treated Padme.”

“I--” If he had not been relegated to that hated suit, Vader’s heart would have stuttered; to hear that comparison, to hear that name  _ at all.  _ “What do you  _ mean?” _

“You grew possessive,” Obi-Wan told him. “Your love turned into that, you had such a fierce need to control everything; and so when she turned away from you, of her own free will, that was the ultimate betrayal.”

Such a statement turned Vader’s rising anger into fury. 

“Do NOT place that on her!” he roared. The trees shook. “You had spoken to her beforehand, just as you have spoken to Luke. It was you who put those thoughts in her head, you who convinced her to take you along, to  _ kill  _ me--”

“It was not me, Anakin! You were too far gone to see it, but she did not bring me willingly. She refused to tell me where you had gone, but I believed that killing you was the only way to stop the Empire; I snuck aboard her ship. But even then…” He shook his head. “You were like a brother to me. I could not do it. I was not strong enough.” 

Vader barely heard the last words. Padme had...she had not been aware of it? She hadn’t known Obi-Wan was there? 

He remembered her terrified face, then, the way she looked between them--she had been just as shocked as he was. 

She  _ had  _ been loyal. She had gone simply to make sure he was all right, to...

She had gone to convince him not to turn to the Dark Side. 

No. No, she hadn’t been loyal, ultimately. She had not tried to kill him--she had not done that. That, at least, was a comfort, and he had never thought to see it otherwise. But the truth was still there. She still had tried to leave him, when  _ he  _ had been right, when he had only been trying to protect her; and Luke had done that, as well. 

He saw the comparison now. Luke was exactly,  _ exactly like Padme.  _

Vader had been foolish to believe that Luke would be like  _ him.  _

But then, how was he supposed to save him? How would it be possible for Luke to turn? Padme had been so incapable of darkness, and if Luke was exactly like her--

“That means nothing,” Vader snapped. “My son is like...her, that is true. But you do not understand. I have less than two days. If Luke does not turn--”

“You still don’t understand, Anakin--”

“Do NOT call me that!” 

“This is not about  _ Luke,”  _ Obi-Wan said sharply. “It is not about Padme, either. This is about you, and how you treat your family!” 

_ I will not have him taken from me.  _

_ I might have said that when Padme left everything she knew to marry you, in secret, but I did not...it was what she wanted. It was her choice.  _

It was too similar to what Jobal had told him.  _ Far too similar.  _

_ I cannot be a father. I cannot. As much as I want to, that is not my destiny. My destiny is to rule the galaxy with Luke at my side, with my  _ family  _ at my side, as it was always meant to be-- _

But then, what did that mean? Did that mean he cared more about his family than the Dark Side?

If so, that was dangerous. 

Very dangerous. 

But either way, Obi-Wan could never claim to know what was good for Luke. 

“You know nothing of the Dark Side,” Vader hissed at him. “And you know nothing about my family. So I would suggest that you return to whatever it is you do in the afterlife and leave me alone!” 

Sharply, he turned to go. 

But behind him, the blue glow remained. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. “Why will you not say her name?”

He had been dreading that question. He had hoped his old master would not ask it; because he knew the answer. He had always known the answer. 

_ Because I made a mistake.  _

_ Because I killed her.  _

_ Because if I say her name, I will admit regret.   
_

_ Because if I say her name, I will admit that I love her, even after death; that I love her more than everything I have sworn to serve. And as a Sith, that I cannot do.   
_

“Leave,” Vader said instead. “Get away from me, and get away from my son.” 

Then, without waiting for Obi-Wan’s response, he marched forward into the jungle. 

It was time to find his son. 

And when he found him, dragons or not, they would leave Felucia; and then, at long last, Luke would become his apprentice. 

  
  


“Matches,” Aphra echoed. She couldn’t believe it.  _ “Matches?  _ You--you--” She gaped at Leia. “You want to  _ burn the den?” _

“Burn the  _ eggs,  _ more specifically,” Leia said. This Princess was such a puzzle. One minute she was terrified, looking over her shoulder and being completely uncertain about herself; now she wanted to burn the eggs of dragons who would most certainly want to kill them. “The Alpha will be furious, obviously. But what I’ve heard from Luke is that the Alpha is also patient; and that ultimately, the Canyon krayts do her bidding. If we anger her enough, she’ll send  _ all  _ of them. And if the den is already on fire…”

“We might not have to do a thing,” Aphra said slowly. Leia was..she was a  _ genius.  _ Aphra hated to admit it, but she was. “You know what? You’re not so bad after all, Princess.” 

“Uh...thanks, I guess,” Leia said, but she was smiling shyly at Aphra. 

Aphra couldn’t help smiling back, just a little. Leia’s face was covered in dirt and dust, there was blood on her cheek, and her hair was a mess; but she was much more attractive like that. At least she didn’t look so posh. 

“So,” Leia said, as if to break the moment. “Are we going to do this?”

Aphra swallowed. Burning  _ all the eggs... _ it made complete sense. They were killing two birds with one stone: drawing the krayts to them, and killing all their offspring in one go. But still...it was risky. 

“We’ll do it,” she said. “But then we’ll have to run like hell.” 

Leia nodded grimly. “Absolutely.” 

Together, they stared at the great expanse of eggs. What an unholy breed of dragon that would be: an Alpha, already a mutant, with the Canyon krayt...it was horrifying to even think about it. 

Yeah, maybe the parents would be angry. Sure. 

But those eggs needed to die. 

“Well, then.” Aphra pulled a lighter out of her bag. “I am in such deep shit.” 


	42. The People We Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aphra and Leia carry out their plan, but they seem to have picked up a stowaway; Vader runs into Sola.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of warnings for this chapter: there's a bit of strong language for those of you who have an issue with that, and there's...quite a bit of gory description towards the end.

Fire, Leia thought, was beautiful. 

She had always been fascinated by it, even as a child. Before she even knew what it was, fire had been something dangerous, but also something that was pretty to behold. Of course, it was certainly true that fire could be painful and destructive. She knew that. But to simply stand there in safety, to watch it, to be so detached from the experience of  _ burning,  _ was wonderful. From her position at the edge of the cave, the fire looked gorgeous. Like life, like a heartbeat...like a living, breathing work of art. Fire was an exquisite painting, oranges and reds and yellows all blending and weaving together in one unified image that only the best of artists could have created. 

It was also beautiful because it was currently destroying thousands of dragon babies that otherwise would have killed them. 

“How long?” Aphra said quietly. “How long do we wait?”

Leia shot her a look. “I don’t know. You’re the krayt dragon expert.” 

Aphra sighed “To be honest, I have no idea either. These things have been extinct for years. Typically I’d expect that they’d come immediately--especially if some of them are hiding further in the cave--but I just don’t know. They’ve been too unpredictable; I never would have guessed that the Canyon krayts and the Alpha would  _ team up.  _ Could be an hour...could be five minutes.” She looked away from Leia to stare at the damage they had wrought; the light of the fire danced in her eyes. “I don’t know.” 

“Well,” Leia muttered, “that’s reassuring.” 

“Listen, if I knew more, I’d tell you. Trust me. But I don’t, so we’ll just have to deal with that.” 

“Deal with what?”

_ That  _ wasn’t Aphra. It was someone new; and much higher-pitched. Leia and Aphra spun around. 

“Ruya!” Aphra gasped. 

The girl was standing just behind them in the cave, arms crossed over her chest. Her face was smudged with dirt, and her arms were vaguely scratched--from climbing through the jungle, no doubt--but other than that, she had the same familiar spark of determination in her eyes. 

And that was  _ bad.  _

They’d just set a trap for the Canyon krayts--they were going to fight dragons--and  _ Ruya had followed them-- _

Leia strode forward to seize Ruya’s arm. She didn’t care if she was being rough, or if she was scaring her; and given Ruya’s track record, she very much doubted that she was going to scare her. 

“Ruya,” she hissed. “What--in the  _ galaxy-- _ are you  _ doing here?” _

“Does anyone know we’re here?” Aphra demanded. “That  _ you’re  _ here?”

“No,” Ruya said, glaring at both of them. “No one knows.” 

“Well, you didn’t answer my first question.” Leia knelt and stared Ruya in the eye.  _ “What are you doing here?” _

“Helping you!” came the unexpected answer. 

Leia didn’t know what to say to that; neither, apparently, did Aphra. 

“Helping us?” Aphra scoffed after a moment. “You think we need help, kid? We’ve got this under control!” 

“No, you don’t,” Ruya said, pulling several items out of her pocket--three blaster bolts, Leia realized. She frowned. 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” she said. “That’s just--”

But then Aphra gasped. 

“No,” she said, sounding horrified. “I almost--” 

Quickly, she drew the acid blaster, opened it...and  _ nothing fell out.  _ There had been no bolts in there; Ruya had the bolts. That…

Leia groaned. “Sola examined all the weapons, that’s right. She was trying to make sure they were all in working order, and she must have taken out the blaster bolts!” She shook her head. “I’m such an idiot.” 

“We’re idiots.” Aphra sighed. “But I wish you’d told your  _ mother,  _ or--no, not your mother. She would’ve stopped us. But  _ someone else,  _ because  _ you shouldn’t be here!”  _

“Well, you want to help Luke, right?” Ruya asked. 

Leia glanced at Aphra. They’d have to be careful with what they said; Ruya was much smarter than she’d thought. 

“Yes,” she said, turning back to Ruya. The fire continued to roar behind them. “This is to help Luke. He’s...he does need to fight the Alpha. I think he’s the only one who will be able to do that. But the Alpha and Canyon krayts work together, and with all his injuries, he won’t be able to take all of them on at once.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Ruya said, sounding insulted. “I heard you back at the ship.” 

Leia didn’t even have an answer to that. She’d thought they were being quiet, but apparently they hadn’t been. 

Aphra was looking up at the ceiling. 

“You’re a little troublemaker,” she said at last. “You know that, right?”

“Of course,” Ruya said, beaming up at her. 

Great. It was a compliment. 

Forget Aphra.  _ Ruya Naberrie  _ was reminding her of Han  _ way too much.  _

“Well, thank you,” Leia said; Aphra was busy inserting the blaster bolts into the weapon. “And now, here’s what’s going to happen.  _ You  _ are going to walk out of this den and go  _ straight back to the ship.”  _

Ruya gaped at her. “But--”

“No,” Leia said firmly. “I don’t want you anywhere near these dragons, do you understand? You’ve helped us enough. And we’re beyond grateful for that, trust me. But...” Leia looked over her shoulder at the burning eggs. “It’s time for you to leave. It’s not safe for you here. We’ll get this taken care of, I promise.” 

Ruya narrowed her eyes...and then she gave a harrumph. 

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll leave.” 

Shoulders slumped, she turned to go. Leia allowed herself a moment of relief. 

And then the screaming started. 

  
  


“Sola.” 

It was time to wake up; Sola knew that. Time for school. But she’d had such a long night before, up with her friends--she didn’t want to get up. 

“In a minute, Padme,” she mumbled. She was just so  _ tired… _

But it wouldn’t last long, she knew that. Padme was going to jump on top of her, shake her awake, maybe even throw pillows on her--

_ “Sola!”  _

That voice was not Padme’s. It was deeper, and more worried. 

Amil. That was Amil’s voice. 

That’s right. She was in the  _ Falcon,  _ on Felucia, running from dragons, with children of her own...and Padme was long gone. 

Sola swallowed. She hadn’t had a moment like that in...years. 

“Sola!” 

“I’m awake,” she said, opening her eyes; Amil was standing over her, and besides the bandage on his arm, he looked fine. The treatment had done him well. “What is it?”

“It’s Ruya,” he said, panic in his voice. 

Sola was sitting up immediately. 

“Ruya?” she demanded. “What about her?” 

Ruya had just been here, she’d been lying down next to her...but as Sola looked, she noticed that she was the only one on the bed.

“She’s gone,” Amil said, waving his hands frantically, “I--I can’t find her anywhere, I haven’t been able to find her for half an hour, but it’s--it’s not just her.” 

Sola stood up. “What do you mean, Amil?”

“It’s Leia and Aphra,” he said. “They’re gone as well--Antilles helped me search, but he couldn’t find them either. There’s no trace of them anywhere, I--I tried, I didn’t want to wake up, and I’m so sorry--”

“Don’t apologize.” Sola fought to keep her voice level. At the moment, all she wanted to do was panic, but that wouldn’t do them any good. “Where’s Chewbacca? And Luke?”

“They haven’t--” Amil took a deep breath; he was trying to keep himself calm as well. “They haven’t returned.” 

“Then…” There was someone else on the ship; or, rather, two others. “The droids.” 

She hurried from the chamber, and Amil followed her. 

There was no sign of the Artoo unit, but the protocol droid was standing there. He looked incredibly anxious--he always looked anxious--but even more so than usual. 

“Droid,” Amil said. “Where are Leia and Aphra?”

“I was waiting for you,” he said to Sola; he’d clearly been given instructions to talk to her. “They--I’m afraid they have left to destroy the krayt dragons.” 

“Left to--” Sola’s speech failed her.  _ “They what?” _

“They have left to destroy the krayt dragons,” the droid repeated. “The Canyon krayts, specifically. Artoo has gone after them, along with Chewbacca; I do not know what has happened to Master Luke, and I...I have not seen your daughter, either--”

“She must have gone with them,” Amil said shakily. 

“Oh, everything is so out of control!” the droid wailed. 

“It--it’ll--” Sola was trying to say it would be all right, but she didn’t understand  _ how in the galaxy this situation would be all right.  _ She was starting to breathe faster, she noticed, and the vague thought crossed her mind that she was hyperventilating and she needed to stop, but  _ Ruya was out there,  _ they were all out there--her nephew was in a cave by himself--Leia and Aphra had gone after the Canyon krayts--

_ What would Padme do?  _

The thought came to Sola unbidden; but once it was there she had to think about it. Thinking about Padme calmed her down--she could see her sister’s shining brown eyes in front of her, that determined look in her eyes…

_ We just have to do it, Sola. We have to act.  _

That had been Padme telling her to be more politically active, to protest the war, to help her in the Senate. And Sola had been too cowardly to do it. She had always been weaker than Padme; her sister had been the strong one in the family. 

Padme might have been worried, even terrified. Sola knew that more than anyone; she had  _ seen  _ Padme afraid before. 

But even when she was afraid, Padme still would have marched out the door of the ship, fists clenched. 

She wasn’t Force-sensitive. Padme Naberrie Amidala had lived in a galaxy, at the time, full of Force-sensitives, and still she hadn’t hesitated to get the job done. No matter what, or who, was at stake. 

And now, Padme’s son was at stake. 

“Sola?” Amil asked her. 

Sola opened her eyes. She knew what she was going to do; she knew what had to happen. 

“Stay here,” she said. “Both of you stay here, and make sure Antilles stays here as well, no matter how worried he is for his friends. We need people ready with medical equipment, ready to get this ship off the ground.” She grabbed a comlink and clipped it to her wrist. “Amil, keep in touch with me; droid, keep in touch with the Artoo unit. I’m going to find my daughter and--and--and the others.” She pulled a blaster off the wall and clutched it tightly. “And I’m going to find them  _ alive.”  _

Amil nodded. “I’ll be here.” 

Sola kissed him quickly; it was such,  _ such  _ a relief to have him here, to have him to depend on--she knew he would want to go after Ruya as well, but it would be much worse if she didn’t have someone at the ship she could trust. 

“I love you,” she whispered. “I’ll bring our daughter back.” 

Then she marched out of the ship and into the jungle. 

  
  


The sound was coming from the  _ eggs.  _

“Holy shit,” Aphra said, stumbling back. “Holy shit, holy--” 

“Language,” Leia snapped at her, since Ruya was right there. 

_ “Do you think I give a shit about language right now?”  _ Aphra just about screamed at her. “Clearly, those babies were developed enough that they have lungs and they feel pain, and they’re dying, and they are SCREAMING FOR THEIR PARENTS!” 

“Yes, that’s what we want,” Leia said, but Aphra cut her off. 

“Not yet, it’s not! The dragons were just supposed to know the eggs weren’t burning--do you know how much angrier they’re going to be if their babies are literally screaming for them?” Aphra tugged at Leia’s arm. “We gotta go, we gotta go!” 

Leia nodded quickly, almost mesmerized by the sight of the fire and the burning dragons--

The parents would come. 

The dragons were  _ coming.  _

The realization struck her shocked mind; and finally, she seized Ruya’s hand and started to pull her away. The three of them stumbled out of the den, away from the burning eggs, until they were on solid ground. 

“Okay,” Aphra gasped. “Now, where are they?” 

She spun around, her panicked gaze searching the jungle; Leia spun with her, keeping her hand tightly pressed around Ruya’s. For some reason, she felt protective of the girl.

But there were no dragons. 

There was only the cold of the night, their own breath in the jungle...and almost no moonlight. It was a terrifyingly moonless night. 

That did not bode well. 

Maybe they couldn’t see the dragons…but  _ all  _ the dragons might as well have been camouflaged, not just the Alpha. They could all be right there, and she wouldn’t even know it--

“Stay close to me,” she whispered to Ruya. The girl nodded. 

“Where are you?” Aphra muttered. Slowly, they edged away from the den, step by step. “Come on, you little bastards. Come on…” 

Now that they were out of the den, Aphra seemed slightly calmer. But she was still very much on edge; they were all on edge. The plan was in action, so far, and if the dragons appeared it would be exactly what they’d wanted. But...to do it on such a dark night…

But they couldn’t control that. They had to do it. 

_ Where are you? Where are you?  _

All her life, Leia had been obsessed with facts, with the answers she could see and touch; so this was incredibly frustrating, not to mention terrifying. To not be able to  _ know,  _ for certain--

But Luke never knew. He just listened and paid attention. 

So Leia did that. She closed her eyes, tried to listen to the sounds around her. She heard the rustling of the wind in the bushes, felt strands of her hair move around her face, felt Ruya’s hand in hers, heard the scampering of some small creature; not a dragon. 

_ Where are you?  _

**_Here._ **

The answer seemed to provide itself, as if it were a whisper in her mind; Leia’s eyes flew open. No one had spoken to her. No one had said anything. But she knew, instantly, where the dragons were. 

_ There’s danger, move away, move away-- _

With a shout that she almost didn’t notice, she pulled the acid blaster and fired. 

And the dragon that had been about to bite into her fell back. 

Chaos erupted. The dragons were here, Aphra and Ruya now knew the dragons were here, the dragons knew they had lost the element of surprise--Leia could barely think straight, her thoughts were whirling in a panic, but her instincts were telling her to fire, somewhere to her left. So she did. 

The dragon fell back. She heard it; but she could hardly see it, and without sight, she wouldn’t be able to know if she had actually hit any of the dragons or not. 

“Flare!” she shouted, barely coherent; she only knew, vaguely, what she wanted. The rest of her brain was reacting primitively, like a cornered animal. “Flare, flare, FLARE--”

“Yes, I hear you!” Aphra said shrilly, and a burst of flame came to life in her hand; and there was the Canyon krayt, looming above her. 

And there was a white smattering on its chest. 

She’d hit it. She’d gotten it. The acid was there. They could kill this thing, they could kill it--

But unfortunately, that was the only thought her brain had time for. The next second, the dragon had landed, right on top of her; and there was a piercing agony in her shoulder. Distantly, she heard herself scream…

And then the pain was gone, and there was a blinding light in front of her eyes. 

“Get up!” She felt a small hand tugging at her. “Get up, get up!” 

Ruya. Aphra. Someone. Leia forced her eyes open, shaking her head at the images that assaulted her--Aphra was firing, there was blood all over her shirt, Ruya was pulling at her, there was a mass of flesh lying on the ground--

The dragon. 

“You--” Leia gasped. “You, you killed it--”

“Yeah, I know!” Aphra fired one last shot--she had her Mandalorian blaster--and turned toward Leia. “Come on, get the acid weapon! We got one, but there’s--there’s--”

“How many?” 

“I don’t know! At least four more, maybe--”

There was a shriek. Both Aphra and Leia were caught off guard; that was another of the dragons. 

A shot rang out to Leia’s left, and the dragon temporarily fell back. 

It was Ruya. Her face was white, and she was shaking, but she was holding her blaster in the air. 

The girl had given Leia an opportunity, and she needed to take it. 

Leia’s arm  _ stung,  _ but Luke had been fighting dragons for days with an infected leg, so she gritted her teeth, raised the acid blaster, squinted, and fired. 

She hit the dragon’s leg. 

She’d missed? How had she missed? Feeling her arms begin to shake with fear, Leia fired again--

This time the acid hit square on the dragon’s chest; she roared in pain, and with those awful shrieks, two others appeared at her side. 

And they stopped. 

They were trying to mess with her. Trick her somehow, and she’d gotten one of them, but…

She hated how intelligent those eyes looked. 

“Aphra?” Leia asked, her voice quavering.  _ “Aphra?” _

There was nothing; sudden fear shot through her. Had something happened to Aphra? She’d just been there, a minute ago! Had a dragon gotten her? That must have been what had happened, but if that was true--

There was a lack of pressure on Leia’s hand. She looked down. 

Ruya was gone, too. 

“Ruya?” Leia edged back, away from the dragons; all three of them were advancing on her, and she couldn’t see the fourth. Maybe it was behind her. “Aphra?”

She didn’t know when she’d started to like Aphra, but suddenly there was a desire, a  _ desperate need  _ for Aphra to be alive. This had been such a terrible thing to do; they’d killed the eggs, yes, they’d killed one dragon, but they were all going to  _ die  _ like this!

One of the dragons cocked its head. Moving in for the kill.

“Aphra!” There were tears streaming down Leia’s face. “ _ Where are you?” _

“I’m here, you idiot!” Suddenly there was a hand reaching down--from a tree, Aphra was okay,  _ Aphra was okay.  _ “Grab my hand!” 

Leia had a thousand things she would have liked to say, but she needed to get away. She reached up. 

And the dragons lunged. 

Something like a screech was torn from her throat, and Leia jumped on instinct, grabbed Aphra’s hand desperately; but that wasn’t enough, the dragons were  _ right there-- _

One of them  _ jumped up to her face,  _ and Leia screamed--she scrabbled with her other hand at the tree, held on tight to Aphra’s hand, and scrambled upwards as fast as her legs could carry her, tearing clothing and skin in her effort to get away. 

And then she was sitting on a branch, Aphra at her side...and she was safe. 

Leia gasped for breath, holding onto the tree to keep her steady; her heart was  _ pounding,  _ and it was all she could do not to pass out where she was sitting. 

But the dragons. Where were the dragons, where--

Leia looked down. 

The dragons were standing at the foot of the tree, all four of them, and they were staring up at Leia and Aphra and Ruya with all the malicious intent in the world. 

But even they couldn’t jump three hundred feet into the air. 

No, only the Alpha could do that. 

The dragons continued to stare at them; and Leia, as absolutely terrified to death as she was, stared back. It seemed to last for hours. 

The dragons wanted to kill them. They  _ wanted to kill them.  _

But then, suddenly, they turned away; it was as if something else had caught their attention. Dimly, Leia thought she heard something, far away in the jungle, but she couldn’t be sure. All she knew was that for once, the dragons weren’t focused on them. 

And then, as she watched, they ran away into the distance. 

“We’ll find them,” Aphra said. “I can follow their tracks easily enough. And we got one, and killed all the babies; that’s got to count for something.” 

Leia didn’t respond. She was too exhausted. She leaned her head against the tree and closed her eyes; but she didn’t sleep. 

_ Danger,  _ something seemed to whisper at the edge of her mind.  _ Danger… _

She ignored it. It was just her emotions, she was terrified, she’d just fought five Canyon krayt dragons and the wound in her arm was hurting more by the minute. All she wanted to do was rest. 

“Oh, no,” Aphra said suddenly. 

Leia groaned. “What now?”

“They ran in the opposite direction,” Aphra said. “They’re not heading toward the  _ Falcon.”  _

“Well,” Leia murmured, “good.” 

_ “No.”  _ Aphra’s tone scared her. “No,  _ not good.”  _

Leia sat up. “What do you mean?”

“I know what you mean.” Ruya’s voice was shaking. “I’ve been all over this jungle the last few days, and if they went that way, then...then isn’t that towards the hospital?”

Aphra nodded grimly. “And it’s  _ close.”  _

The hospital. 

Slowly, the truth of it dawned on Leia. 

The krayts had gone that way...and moments before, she’d heard a cry, of some animal…

“The Alpha’s angry,” she said. “The Alpha doesn’t know it was  _ us  _ who killed her children. And the hospital used to be…” 

“The lab,” she and Aphra said together. 

The Alpha must have decided, logically, that the laboratory where she had been imprisoned was responsible for the death of her children; so she had sent the krayts there. 

That hospital was, at most, a mile away. .

There were over a thousand innocent,  _ injured and sick people there.  _

And they were all going to be killed. 

Leia wanted nothing more than to keep on resting. To forget the dragons, forget all of this. But that wasn’t an option. 

“Come on,” she said, setting her jaw. “We know what we have to do.” 

  
  


Vader was gaining on his son. He could feel it. 

It was turning out to be a long trek through the jungle--and given that he had not been back to the  _ Executor  _ for almost five days, he had also not  _ eaten  _ in five days. He knew it was what he needed; but for the sake of finding Luke, he was able to ignore it. He was beginning to grow desperate. Time wore on him constantly, he was ever presently aware of just how little time he had left; Luke must survive. The only way that Luke would survive would be if he were turned to the Dark Side. It was Palpatine’s directive, and Palpatine must go, but  _ not without Luke.  _ Vader could not do it alone. It would need to be a coup, and then the galaxy could be free, and none of that could happen if Luke was not turned to the Dark Side. 

It was the  _ only way.  _

So Vader continued, ignorant of his own needs; they did not matter. He could sense Luke somewhere ahead of him, and he  _ would  _ find him. He would. 

And then, he sensed Luke’s presence. 

It was in the house ahead of him, large, old, and tucked neatly into the jungle; an ancient hunter’s place, most likely, and the perfect spot for a hideout. Vader stormed forward, threw aside the door--

There was no sign of Luke. 

But he had  _ been here.  _ Vader could feel his presence, almost as clearly as if Luke were standing right in front of him. 

If only he  _ were  _ standing in front of him. 

_ Then he would be cringing away from you, if not running.  _

No. Vader refused to think of that. If he had Luke where he  _ could not run,  _ then he would be able to explain everything to him, as he should have done from the beginning. And then, once Luke knew, he would not leave. 

It was simple logic. 

And yet, he was not here. He had gone on. 

Vader was, as always, just a step behind him.

_ “No.”  _ His hand seized on the doorframe; it trembled and shook with his anger. “Why? Why can't I find you?”

_ Perhaps because the Force wills it.  _

With a snarl, he turned away and left the shed. 

The bushes in front of him rustled; it wasn’t Luke. He knew that. Perhaps, at least, it would be one of those smaller dragons, the Canyon krayts, and he could take out his rage on it. 

Then the bushes parted, and Sola Naberrie emerged, blaster in hand. 

She froze. Vader didn’t know what to say; he had not expected, or  _ desired,  _ to see her ever again. 

“Sola,” he growled. 

_ “You,”  _ she hissed. 

Fury flashed across her face, and without so much as a sound, she raised her blaster and fired. 

  
  


They took Ruya with them. Aphra didn’t know what else to do with her. 

She didn’t want to take a kid on a manhunt for dragons, but if they sent her back to the  _ Falcon,  _ she’d probably get herself killed. And Aphra really didn’t want another death on her conscience. 

So they took her with them. Ruya was more than happy about it. 

If “happy” could even be considered the word for it. The goal had moved far beyond helping Luke; he was obviously not in danger now. But the dragons, thus far consumed with going after Luke and Vader and Sola and everyone else, were about to go on a killing spree in a hospital filled with sick and injured people. 

Besides, in an enclosed,  _ lit space,  _ they would stand a much better chance of killing the dragons, when they didn’t have to use flares to see them in the first place.

At least that was what Aphra told herself. 

She ran faster than she could remember running--except for the first time she’d run into the Alpha, which had been its own horror story--across the jungle. Leia, despite her injury, kept pace with her the entire time. As for Ruya...they occasionally had to stop, to make sure she could catch up, but they didn’t have to do it often. The kid seemed just as determined as they were. 

Aphra could admire that about her. 

It wasn’t hard to follow the tracks. The dragons, for once, hadn’t seemed to care about stealth; their tracks were obvious in the wet mud. But they’d passed through here at least twenty minutes before; there was a likelihood that they would all be too late. 

Aphra didn’t want to think about that. For multiple reasons. 

They kept on running, and the night wore on; it was already growing close to the next day, though the dawn hadn’t arrived yet. It would be the dragons’ preferred time for hunting. 

“What--” Leia gasped, out of breath. “Where do you think they’ll go first? How will they try to get in?”

Aphra couldn’t believe her sometimes. “Why--why do you keep thinking I’ll know these things?”

Now it was Leia who looked irritated. “Because you’re the dragon expert!” 

“Yeah, I’m the  _ dragon bones expert!  _ Not the live dragons expert! You’re getting me mixed up with a biologist--”

“Hey,” Ruya said. So far she hadn’t said much of anything. “Stay focused!” 

Both Aphra and Leia fell silent. Ruya was right. 

“We’re almost there,” Ruya observed a moment later. “I recognize this part. This is where the Alpha attacked us before.” 

Oh, yeah.  _ That  _ was reassuring. 

But nothing happened, and then they were bursting out of the trees, and it was just the field between them and the hospital. 

That field had never looked so long. 

“Come on,” Leia said through gritted teeth. They ran forward.

  
  


She had actually  _ fired  _ at him. 

Vader was only shocked for a moment. He raised a hand, deflecting the bolt with the Force, and then the next, and the next. 

“If you are hunting dragons,” he remarked, “you are wasting your weapon.” 

Sola fired once more, as if for good measure, before lowering the blaster. 

“It wasn’t a waste,” she said. There was absolute hatred in her eyes; between this and their last encounter, Vader wondered what could have happened to make her hate him even more than she already did. “I’ve wanted to do that for days. But especially since I talked to Luke.” 

_ Oh.  _

Of course he’d returned to her. Of  _ course.  _

Vader clenched his fists. As if he couldn’t be furious  _ enough-- _

_ “You  _ spoke with him,” he said, taking care to keep his voice level, just enough to get whatever information out of her he could. “Tell me. When did you last see him? Do you know where--”

Sola frowned. “Isn’t he in the cave?”

“No. He is long gone.” 

“Then…” Sola turned white for a brief moment. “Then I don’t know.” Her expression hardened. “And even if I did, I  _ wouldn’t  _ tell you.” 

“Of course you--” Vader stopped. This was wasting precious time. “What is it you want from me?”

Sola looked around. “If we’re going to talk, I think we should move inside the house. There might be dragons around, and I don’t want them to catch us off guard.” 

Vader wanted to get out of her everything that she knew, but he agreed. 

“That would be wise,” he said. 

Quickly, they moved inside the house. Vader let Sola go first; and then, he slammed the rusted door behind him. 

“Now,” he said. “Talk.  _ What is it you want from me?” _

“I think that should be obvious by now,” Sola snapped, “but if not I’ll spell it out for you. You’ve tormented your poor son to no end, and he  _ needs  _ to get away from you.” 

The way she said that--the way it was  _ phrased-- _ Vader knew that was not what he had intended, but it sounded so much worse coming from Sola like this. 

“I,” he stabbed a finger in her face, “have not  _ tormented  _ him.” 

Sola scoffed. “The memory of Luke sobbing in my arms begs to differ.”

Vader jerked back physically. When he had imagined Luke speaking to Sola, he had not imagined  _ that.  _ Was Luke truly so distraught that he had broken down in front of her? 

Because of what Vader had done? 

_ It was necessary. His  _ feelings  _ do not matter, only that he must join the Dark Side-- _

But for once it was easy to ignore that voice. To imagine Luke that upset...to imagine Luke upset at  _ all-- _

And yet, that was not what mattered, was it? 

As long as Palpatine’s command existed, as long as there was that threat of Luke dying...Vader could take Luke being upset, being distraught, hating him. It was better, after all, than Luke being  _ dead. _

“You still cannot understand,” he said. 

“Oh, don’t I?” Sola demanded. “I know that Luke has been in terrible emotional pain for a month because of you. I know that you must have done awful things to him then, attacked him, attacked his friends, something like that. I know that all of his friends have been hunted and tortured by you; so of course there’s no chance of him telling them.” 

“Good,” Vader said harshly. “I cannot risk--”

“I know that once Aphra figured out the truth, you almost killed her,” Sola pressed on sharply. “You ignored everything Luke told you; you didn’t think about him. And then you turned the Force on  _ him--” _

No. Not that. Vader couldn’t think of that. 

“That was a mistake,” he admitted. “But it was  _ not  _ intentional.”

Sola, on the threshold of the house, stopped short. 

_ “Oh?”  _ she said, her voice cold as ice. “Just like you  _ killing my sister  _ wasn’t intentional?”

So far Vader had kept a handle on his steadily building rage. He must reason with Sola, and she looked too much like her; he could not do anything to her, he could not become angry at her. 

But the memory of  _ that-- _

He hadn’t recognized what he was doing, he remembered only being angry--

And then--and then--Padme lying motionless on the ground--

“You  _ cannot know!”  _ he roared, and Sola actually flinched. “You were not there. You did not witness it, you could  _ not have known  _ what was truly happening, you--”

_ You were not inside my head,  _ he had been about to say. He cut himself off. That was far too personal. 

Inside his head had been constant torment--then, and ever since. 

“Well, I can guess at it,” Sola said, moving past him into the house. “Especially now that I’ve spoken to Luke. You want to control him, you want a son who will be  _ exactly  _ like you--”

“You are twisting my words,” Vader snapped. “I want a son who is  _ alive,  _ and the only way for that to happen is if he becomes a Sith.” 

“Bullshit,” Sola spat at him. 

_ “What?” _

“That is complete and utter bullshit,” she said. “The only thing  _ you  _ should care about, as a  _ parent,  _ is making your only son happy.” 

It was the same thing Jobal had said to him. Like mother, like daughter, he supposed. He had the same answer for Sola. 

“I am a  _ Sith,”  _ he snarled, ignoring the way the floorboards of the house creaked under his feet as he stalked closer to her. “You are just an ordinary woman; you would not understand these things. You--”

“Try me.” 

He stared at her. Had she just--

“Try  _ what?”  _ he demanded. 

“Try me,” she said again, fire in her eyes as she glared at him. “Tell me.  _ Make me understand.”  _

Oh, she wanted to understand? Then he’d tell her. 

And he wouldn’t care how horrified or confused she was. It was just the truth. 

“You wish to  _ understand?”  _ he hissed. “Then know this. There can only be one lord of the Sith, and one apprentice. I am the apprentice, and as you might guess, the Emperor is my master. I wish to have Luke at my side, to rule the galaxy as I  _ should have,  _ but my master has given me only one chance. That was one month ago; I was supposed to turn Luke to the Dark Side, and as you might imagine, I failed.” The words were bitter in his mouth. “Mercifully, he has given me a second chance. If I bring Luke to him, a  _ willing  _ Luke, by the end of the month, his life will be spared. If not, his life is forfeit. That deadline is in less than two days.”

For once, Sola didn’t seem to have a response. She just stared at him. 

So Vader, finally able to talk about what had been plaguing him for days, pressed on. 

“This, if you are curious, is what happened years ago,” he said; if she could understand  _ something  _ about what had happened to Padme, then maybe she would tell him where his son was. “Your sister was with child, and visions came to me where she...died in childbirth. My master told me that I could save her, and once again, I failed. I was not strong enough against my foolish Jedi teacher; he defeated me. I was left for dead on the shores of Mustafar, and when I awoke in this  _ suit  _ days later, your sister was dead.” 

He was beginning to shake--his limbs were prosthetics, but they trembled at the memory, at the  _ horror  _ of what had happened. 

“I had not had control then; I mistakenly thought that I did. I was a pawn in the Emperor’s game. But now I understand better; now I am in control. I know better than Luke, and I know what he must do. This time I will shape the future of the galaxy, when Luke is at my side. That is the  _ only  _ way for this to be resolved, for there to be order, and  _ I will accomplish it.  _ But first...but first, there is the damned  _ ultimatum,  _ and I have less than two days to bring Luke to my master.” 

He stopped and looked at Sola. But she was not looking at him with the horror he had expected. 

Instead, there was nothing--her face was blank. So he reached for her emotions.

She was  _ angry.  _

After all that, after what he had said, she was still angry? Did she not understand? 

“That is exactly the problem,” she said tightly. “You say you have control, that you didn’t then and you do now, but  _ you still have no control!” _

“I--” He didn’t know what to do with that. Yes, he was under an ultimatum--for now. But it was the way to freeing the galaxy once and for all, and this time he actually understood that, and had the power to make it happen. Could she not see that? “After all of that, you still do not understand.” 

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, I understand perfectly. You’re under the illusion that you have control, over anything that happens at all, over what your son does with his own free will!”

Maybe...maybe he didn’t. He was not going to admit that out loud, but he might admit it to himself. 

But then...then there was still the ultimatum. 

“I understand how it might  _ look,”  _ he growled. “But for now, when my master gives me a command such as this, I cannot do anything against it. Surely, you understand  _ that?  _ I must bring Luke to Palpatine, willing to be turned--”

“And you think that’s going to happen?”

“It must. It  _ will.”  _

“But  _ what if it--” _

“Then I will have to kill him!” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and--and  _ there  _ was the horror he’d been expecting. “I told you that you did not understand. Luke must turn, because if he does not, then  _ I will have to kill him,  _ I will have to do exactly what you think I am doing already!”

“But why obey the Emperor at all?  _ Why?  _ If he gives you commands like  _ that--” _

He did not want to have to explain  _ this much,  _ but if he refused she might start asking even more difficult questions. 

“Because,” he said, his voice low, “he is stronger than I am in the Force. Because, while he did not help me save your sister, he gave me all the power that I have and saved my life when I was burning on Mustafar. Because at the moment, following him is my best option, because the Dark Side is  _ stronger.  _ Whether the Emperor is right or not, there can be no  _ doubt  _ that the Dark Side is stronger, and that Luke must turn, and that if I do not I will be bound by duty to kill him--”

“Then  _ fuck  _ your duty!” 

That, of all things, Vader had not expected to hear. 

“What?” he demanded. 

“Fuck the Emperor,” Sola went on, “fuck the Dark Side, fuck everything that is commanding you to  _ kill your own son!”  _

“I--” He did not know what to say to that. Something in him was beginning to agree with it, to agree with what Sola was saying, because  _ Luke couldn’t die-- _

And yet--

“Take away the Sith and the Force and everything else,” Sola said, “and you’re exactly like me. You’re a parent. You have a child. All that matters is protecting him!” 

Still he did not know what to say. Whether he went according to what Sola was saying, or what Palpatine had told him, then his motive was to save Luke. To save his son. He could not deny that now; it was all he had wanted since the first appearance of the Greater krayt, when all he had known to do was pull Luke against his chest as a crude way of ensuring that that  _ thing _ would not kill him. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to, but he could not. 

But if that was his only aim, then how much of a Sith  _ was  _ he? 

And what did that mean for Luke? If Vader was not a Sith, would he even be able to protect his son? 

“That’s what I’m doing,” Sola continued, her eyes glistening with tears. “My daughter is currently lost in the jungle, and I’m going to find her and protect her, and you-- _ you need to do the same for your son!”  _

“That is what I  _ have  _ been doing,” he growled, but she cut him off. 

“No. No, you have not. You’ve been hunting him, like one of these  _ dragons,  _ to  _ make  _ him do what you want him to do. Not to help him. Not to protect him. And that’s what you need to start doing!” 

He had already explained to her that turning Luke  _ would  _ be protecting him. He did not know how to say it again. 

And he could not deny...he couldn’t deny that, above all else, he did not want his son dead. It was horrifying to even think about, and he  _ did not want it-- _

_ Thud.  _

At once, all thoughts of Luke and the Emperor and the Dark Side ceased to matter. It was the Alpha; she was somewhere near. 

At last. He could kill her at last. 

_ Thud.  _

But, he realized, the frame was shaking, the house was shaking--

They had come here to ensure there would be no dragons while they were speaking. But if the Alpha herself was here, and the house was ancient--

“We must leave,” Vader said, grabbing Sola’s arm roughly. “Immediately!” 

_ THUD.  _

Too late. 

There came a roar, the floorboards snapped and turned up, the walls fell inwards--

And then the entire house caved and fell, right on top of them. 

  
  


The dragons had gone in through, of all places, the front door. There were krayt tracks leading up to and through the door, and into the hospital. They’d tracked mud with them; but the door was left untouched. 

“That’s almost funny,” Leia said. “In a morbid sort of way.” 

Aphra clenched her fists. This was horrifying. 

“No, it’s not,” she said. “It’s a reminder, that once again, those things are smart enough to open doors.” 

_ How many? How many people have they killed?  _

_ And what can we even do?  _

She ran forward and into the hospital. Leia and Ruya followed. 

They were met with a gruesome sight. 

There was blood all over the floor--all over the tables, the walls, the desk where the receptionist sat. It was smeared across the identification cards and the food court and the tiles. 

The receptionist, or what was left of her, was on the floor behind the desk. Her head and several limbs were missing. 

Multiple bones were strewn across the floor--accompanied by security guards’ uniforms. 

A doctor’s identification tag was lying on the banister. 

“Oh, my god,” Leia whispered. “Oh...oh my  _ god--” _

A scream echoed from above them, accompanied by a snarl. 

“That way,” Aphra said. They ran towards the turbolifts. 

There was also blood on the turbolift buttons. 

Oh. Oh, no. That was bad, that was  _ really, really bad-- _ Aphra felt herself begin to breathe faster. She couldn’t know for sure, but that seemed to suggest that the dragons had figured out how to  _ use the turbolifts.  _

“Sixth floor,” Leia was muttering, “Rebels are on the sixth floor, we have to--”

And the turbolift wasn’t moving. 

“This way!” Ruya called. “Stairs!” 

Aphra didn’t want to stare at the blood any longer. She agreed. Together, she and Leia ran after Ruya--they couldn’t let her get very far ahead of them, that would be bad--and into the stairwell. 

That, too, was littered with bodies. 

Gritting her teeth, Aphra ignored them and began to run up the stairs. Leia and Ruya followed her. On the fourth flight, Aphra slipped in a pool of blood and almost fell; Leia caught her, and they continued on. 

“Try not to look, Ruya,” Leia told the girl. 

Aphra didn’t see how that was possible. There was blood  _ everywhere.  _

At last they’d reached the sixth floor, the level the Naberries had been on, and apparently the level where the Rebels were staying--

And there was chaos. 

Nurses and doctors were screaming--patients were screaming--blood coated the floors, the walls, as well as someone’s guts here and there--there were body parts strewn all over--

And, most importantly, there was the occasional squeal of a dragon. 

They’d walked right into a bloodbath. 

Aphra turned around, and around, and around. Where were they supposed to start? What could they even begin to do? 

This was their fault. 

All because they’d decided to burn the eggs. 

People were dying, people were being massacred by these things--

And Leia was running. 

Aphra was yanked out of her thoughts immediately. Leia, it seemed, had gotten her fear under control, had drawn the acid blaster, and was sprinting across the floor, in the direction of the squealing. 

“Wait!” Aphra ran after her. “Wait! Leia!” 

“Follow me!” the Princess shouted over her shoulder. 

Aphra swore under her breath, gripping the walls to keep from slipping in the blood, rounded the corner--

There was a dragon standing over several terrified nurses. 

“Hey!” Leia shouted; the dragon spun around with a hiss. Without hesitation, she fired. 

The acid struck it square on the chest. 

“Now!” Leia yelled, but Aphra was already running forward--two out of five, this would be two out of five. She couldn’t believe their luck. 

She fired. 

The dragon dodged the blast; and then, with a shriek, it turned and ran in the opposite direction. 

That’s right. They knew what that acid did. 

“Go after it!” Aphra told Leia, getting to her feet. “I’m right behind you!” 

Leia took off immediately, the acid blaster in hand; Aphra glanced at the nurses, who still looked ready to pass out. 

“Go!” she told them. “Get out of here!” 

Shaking, the nurses got to their feet and stumbled away. 

_ Not so much as a word of thanks. Okay, fine.  _ Muttering to herself, Aphra ran after Leia. She could see the tracks Organa had left; the good thing about all this blood was it created a nice trail to follow. 

She rounded a corner. There was the receptionist’s desk, and there was Leia, at the end of the hall--but where was the dragon? 

Something moved behind the receptionist’s desk. 

Oh. Oh, no, no, it was the dragon--

“Leia!” Aphra screamed. She fired desperately; but she wasn’t in control, and the shot went wide. “Leia, watch out!” 

Leia spun around, just as the dragon flew through the air. 

Aphra seemed to see it in slow motion--just like before, in the jungle, the dragon was about to land on top of her. But this one seemed to be smarter; this one already had its mouth open. 

Leia was moving too slowly. She was too slow--

Aphra didn’t know what to do. She never should have let them be split up--

_ We never should have done this alone.  _

Leia’s face was white in horror--the dragon was coming down--its teeth were almost brushing her face, it--

It was going to bite into her head. 

Aphra felt sick. Horrified. She didn’t want to watch it, she didn’t want to see it happen and she wouldn’t be able to stop it--

The dragon froze. 

In  _ midair.  _

Its jaws opened and shut, the teeth scraped Leia’s skin, it seemed to be struggling...against...something. Aphra squinted, trying to figure it out.   


The dragon wasn't looking at her. 

The dragon's eyes were pointed to the right…

To the right, where a green beam of light appeared, as if of its own will, and scythed through the air to pierce the dragon’s chest. 

_ Two out of five.  _

The dragon sagged, gave a last scream, and was dead. Aphra's jaw dropped; she couldn't believe it. She just couldn't believe it...could it be...

Then the blade--the  _ lightsaber-- _ moved. It  was pulled out of the dragon’s chest--

And right into Luke Skywalker’s outstretched hand. 

He looked dirty and haggard; he was limping; his leg was covered in blood. 

But the green glow of his new lightsaber, held firmly in his hand, was reflected into his eyes; and from his eyes shone the fiercest determination Aphra had ever seen. Luke was... _ Luke  _ again, and she realized she hadn’t truly seen him for the four and a half days she’d been here. It wasn’t just the lightsaber, although that was certainly part of it. Back was the annoying kid who’d had so much faith in the Alliance she’d wanted to kill him; back was the boy whose utter refusal to give up had made her hate him on sight. 

Aphra grinned. She was covered in blood and dirt and dragon guts, but she grinned. Luke was here. 

Luke Skywalker was back, and the dragons were going to die. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is taken from a quote from the Jurassic Park movie, where Ellie talks to Hammond about how foolish he's been with the park; it's a really great scene, the acting is amazing, and that's part of what inspired the conversation between Vader and Sola.   
> Ahhhhhhh guys this is heating up, we're so close to the fun stuff here and I'm SO EXCITED!


	43. Eleventh Hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The people in the hospital need to be evacuated...but there is a development.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, typical warnings for blood and gore apply. This isn't quite as bad as the previous chapter, though.

Making it to the hospital in time had not been easy. 

Not at all. 

Luke had gone  _ straight  _ for the hospital, certainly, determined to make it in time  _ and  _ avoid Vader, who he could sense behind him most of the time. That said, it was rough work, especially on his leg--and after the fifth time he’d collapsed, right into a puddle of mud, he wondered if he should get up again. 

Then, he had felt something soft touching him--a creature.

Terrified, he jumped to his feet, as painful as that was--and found himself staring up into the peaceful eyes of the Thunder krayt. 

She must have escaped in the chaos, he realized. How she, such a gentle beast, hadn’t been devoured yet, he did not understand. She was too gentle, too soft to have experienced all of this--but here she was, all the same. 

She was a dragon, and--and she was actually kind of cute. 

“You know,” Luke found himself saying, “you’re not so bad, are you?”

The dragon had made a curious murmur, a sort of rumble, and then--and then she almost  _ smiled  _ at him. Her large lips seemed to turn up. 

Luke smiled back. Holding onto his makeshift cane with one hand, he reached out, ever so slowly, half wondering if she was going to attack him after all...and touched her nose. 

She let him. 

His father was hunting him down. The Alpha was out here somewhere. Leia, Aphra, and Ruya were in danger...but time seemed to slow, to stop entirely, just for the sake of this magnificent creature. Luke stroked her scaly nose, moved his hand up and down her head--at least as far as he could reach--and the dragon, after a while, leaned into him. She was huge, she was larger than the Alpha; she  _ should  _ have been terrifying. But she wasn’t. 

“I have to kill all your cousins,” Luke said. “I’m sorry about that. But…” He kept on petting her. “I don’t see why I have to do that to you. You’re not going to hurt anyone, you’re a--you’re a  _ veggie  _ krayt.” He chuckled. “Maybe that should be your scientific name. Veggius krautus.” 

The dragon smiled at him again. 

But he had to go; he couldn’t stall anymore. Luke removed his hand and edged away. 

Immediately, the Thunder krayt stopped smiling. With two huge, thunderous footsteps, she closed in on him; Luke had to hold onto her to keep from falling over. 

And that was what she wanted. Sneaky dragon. 

“Listen.” He sighed. She was too cute. “I’m really sorry, but I have to go. My friends--they’re in danger. I’m the only person who can help them, and somehow...somehow, I have to get to the…”

He trailed off. 

The dragon was  _ huge.  _

And she seemed to be...quite attached to him. 

Luke squinted at her. 

“You know what?” he said. “Would you be able to...can I...ride you?”

He’d never ridden a dragon before. He’d pretended to, as a child; it was every child’s dream. But, of course, all the other krayts were murderous carnivores. He couldn’t have ridden them. 

But this one...if she  _ let  _ him…

However, the Thunder krayt didn’t respond. She just looked at him, with her big brown eyes. 

“Can I get on you?” Luke tried asking her again. 

He sighed. He might as well just try it. 

Being careful of his leg, he edged around the dragon to her right side, reached up his arms, and…

He fell. 

Or, he almost did. The Thunder krayt shifted to accommodate him at the last moment; Luke found himself staring into her soulful eye. 

He sighed. 

“This would be a lot easier,” he said, “if you would just--”

To his surprise, she knelt. Just like a horse. 

“Oh.” Carefully, he stood back up, leaning on the cane. “Well, that’s…” He frowned. “You weren’t playing around, were you? People are in danger here.” 

She just stared at him. Luke decided he’d better get on with it. 

The dragon was kneeling now, but it was still going to be difficult. Holding his cane under his arm, Luke reached up and tried to swing a leg over, and-- _ no.  _ No, he realized as he knelt on the ground, gasping for breath, lifting one’s injured, badly infected leg was not a good idea. 

He tried again with the other leg--but that stupid cane was in the way. 

Making a decision, he threw it away. He’d have to do without it at the hospital; and he would just have to trust that this dragon would help him. 

Finally, he was sitting completely on the dragon; he had to sit in an awkward position, stretching out his leg, but he was sitting. 

“Okay,” he said. “Now...now can you…”

She stood up. 

She  _ stood up.  _

Luke had never had a problem with heights. He’d climbed a dozen trees without issue the past few days alone. But--to be riding a dragon--and for that dragon to be almost fifty meters--

“O-okay,” Luke said nervously from his new vantage point. “Now...could you…” He tapped his uninjured leg against the dragon. “That way?”

She actually moved. 

She moved  _ slowly,  _ for such a big animal; but she was so huge that already, as she lumbered along, they were covering much more ground than Luke would have crossed in minutes. 

They continued that way for the next mile, and it was a  _ relief.  _ Luke hadn’t realized how much strain he’d been putting on his leg until he was able to rest, and just...ride along. 

It was also, he realized, a supremely bizarre experience. He. Luke Skywalker. Was riding a  _ kriffing  _ dragon. 

“This is--” Halfway to the hospital, he couldn’t help it; he let out a little whoop. “This is amazing! Uh--”

This dragon had sort of become his friend. She, he decided, needed a name. 

Leia had spoken of the chanmasu herb several times, he remembered. It was a plant specific to Alderaan...which meant that now, of course, it was extremely rare. 

“Masu,” Luke said, and decided he liked the name. He leaned forward, patting the dragon’s long neck. “Masu? Is it okay if I call you Masu?”

The dragon gave a little rumble, almost like a cow’s moo. 

“All right, Masu.” Luke grinned. “Take me right to that...that building. You see it?”

Luke had to tap her head a few times, but she finally looked up. She saw it. 

And she stopped  _ dead.  _

Luke was thrown forward, almost off the dragon entirely; and when he had re-settled himself, he knew what he should have realized. The hospital was the  _ laboratory.  _ The lab where this beautiful dragon had been locked up, essentially, gawked at by scientists, even--quite possibly--experimented with. 

She would never want to return there. 

“We don’t...have to go there,” Luke said. “No. You’re right. We won’t. But… _ I  _ need to get there. Not you. Me.” 

She didn’t seem to understand that. Luke sighed. He wouldn’t make it across that plain. He’d had to be carried across it the first time--as  _ humiliating  _ as that memory was--he most certainly wouldn’t make it across with his leg  _ infected.  _

Then he noticed a little grove of trees several feet to the hospital’s right. 

“Hey,” he said. “No hospital--but dinner. Trees. Can we go there?” 

He pointed at the grove. 

Masu made a happy little growl, and set off immediately towards the trees--and, by association, the hospital. 

It had been a short ride, faster than before--Masu was very eager to eat some plants--and then they arrived. There had been a short ordeal of getting her to kneel, in which Luke almost fell off several times; fortunately, she finally got the idea, and Luke was able to slide carefully off his new friend. 

“Thank you,” he said, knowing he was probably never going to see her again. Once she was done eating, she would most likely get away from her old prison. “Thank you very much.” He petted her nose again. “Now--now go have some dinner.” 

And then, the new friends had parted. 

And that was how Luke had made it to the hospital. He didn’t know what would have happened had he not run into the only Thunder krayt that existed; he didn’t even want to think about it. 

Had he been a second later, Leia would have died. 

As it was, she looked extremely shaken and was bleeding in several places, in particular her left arm. She’d been so close to…

No. He’d saved her--that was all that mattered. 

As Leia and Aphra recovered from the shock of nearly being killed, Luke extinguished his lightsaber and returned it to his belt--that particular sensation still felt so good--before leaning on the wall and taking a careful step forward. 

“Hey,” he said, trying to break the tension. “Uh...long time no see?”

With a choked sound, Leia scrambled to her feet, crossed the distance between them, and threw her arms around him.

Luke stumbled backward, almost thrown off-balance; unsteady, he held onto the wall and hugged her with his other hand. Thank the Force he’d arrived when he did; that must have been...frightening, for both her and Aphra. 

Almost as immediately as she’d hugged him, Leia let go. 

“Luke,” she gasped. “You have no idea--we--”

“I have some idea,” he said. “I saw it--in the Force.” 

“Oh, of course,” Aphra said. “But what you didn’t know is that we set fire to the dragons’ den.” 

Luke hadn’t expected  _ that.  _

He almost couldn't believe her. 

“You--” His voice failed him. “You...what?”

“We...it was for you,” Leia said, sounding miserable. “We knew you had to face the Alpha, but the Canyon krayts are still a problem; so we thought we’d take care of them. We had to draw them to us. So--”

“You burned up the eggs.” Luke shook his head. It was crazy, absolutely crazy; but it also sounded like the type of thing  _ he  _ would have done. And, beyond that...it meant there was no threat of dozens of krayt dragon babies. “It’s insane, but--you did us all a favor.” 

“Except we  _ didn’t,  _ Luke.” Leia gestured with her hands. “Look around! It’s an absolute massacre!”

Luke did. 

He hadn’t thought about it until now; he’d just assumed that the dragons had been unable to find their original prey and had instead returned to the hospital, given that there was an abundance of...food...there. But if they’d set the nest on fire…

It was revenge. Revenge on the laboratory that had housed them. 

He had seen the carnage as he came to find Leia and Aphra; it had been horrible, running  _ past  _ all those people that were being killed. He had to save them now--he had to do what he should have been concerned with doing from the beginning, ever since he’d discovered the dragons’ existence. Of course he would have been terrified of Vader, determined to get away from him...but from the moment he discovered that scientists had created krayt dragons, he knew what he should have wanted to do. 

And he was going to do it. 

“You can’t blame yourselves,” he said, trying to think of Obi-Wan’s words. “Maybe it was a mistake; maybe it wasn’t. But you did kill what would have been almost hundreds of dragons. You’ve killed...how many of the Canyon krayts are dead now?”

“Two,” Leia said. “Aphra and I killed one together, and you killed the other just now. And there were five originally--”

“So there are three left.” That shouldn’t have been a problem; just  _ three  _ dragons. But Luke had seen these in action before. “All right. So...I’ll kill them.” 

Leia’s face fell. 

“You can’t,” she said. “You still have to kill the Alpha, on top of all of this--”

“I have to,” Luke cut her off, “because we have something else to do, and it’s something that needs to be done by someone who can move quickly. And I…” He looked down at his leg ruefully. “I don’t think I can do that.” 

Aphra frowned. “What is it?”

“These people need to be evacuated,” Luke said. “All the ones who can be moved, at least. The Rebels we transported here--they’re on this floor. Are they dead?”

Leia bit her lip. “I don’t know.” 

“They need to be gotten out of here,” Luke said. “As quickly as you can. There are transports in the docking bay on the lower levels--get them onto those, get them off the planet. If there are still surviving doctors and nurses, they might be able to fly.” 

Leia frowned; she seemed to be thinking through the situation. Luke could guess what she was struggling with. She knew that the people had to be evacuated...but she also wanted to help him fight the dragons. 

“I’ll do it,” she said. “We’ll do it. Those people do need to be saved. But when we’re done, I’ll let you know, and you need to  _ tell me  _ where you are.” 

Luke didn’t really want her near the dragons any longer. But she didn’t want him near them either; and if they were working together, he had to confess, the dragons might die faster. 

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll let you know.” 

Oddly, Aphra still hadn’t responded. She was looking down, her eyes staring straight ahead. 

“Aphra?” Luke asked. “Come on, the dragons are killing people; we need to get going.” 

Aphra blinked. 

Then she stared up at Luke, her face white. 

“Ruya,” she said, her voice a whisper. “Where the  _ hell  _ is Ruya?”

  
  


They had gone to the hospital. The imbeciles. 

It wasn’t difficult to follow Princess Leia’s tracks; Artoo had been with her for long enough that he knew what her footprints looked like. And beyond that, Chewbacca was very good at smelling people out. Between them, they made a good pair. 

And clearly, Princess Leia and Aphra had gone to the  _ hospital.  _

Why? Artoo had to wonder. But ultimately, he decided that there was no point in wondering; he knew that both Leia and Master Luke were very unpredictable. He needed to babysit them constantly, didn’t he? 

Of course, he was the one out of three individuals in the galaxy who knew why that was. But given that the Senator had been a much better father to Princess Leia than the...other...he did not have any plans to tell her. She would be much happier if she lived her entire life believing that Senator Organa had been her father; Luke would have been much happier without the truth as well. And, as Artoo’s prime objective was Master Luke and Princess Leia’s happiness, he did not plan on telling the Princess. 

But, of course, this knowledge did prove useful in several ways. First and foremost: in discovering where the offspring had gone so as to protect them.

_ Why would they have gone there?  _ Chewbacca growled.  _ They were only supposed to go to the den.  _

“Unclear,” Artoo said. He very much did not appreciate his current position, being carried along by the Wookiee. But as he could only roll along, and his rockets were disabled, this was the best option. “The point is that they have gone there, and we must stop them. We will be able to interrogate them later.” 

_ But what about the cub?  _

Artoo thought about that. Master Luke had been at that cave; that was right. But, given certain factors...there were two options. Either he was still there, building the lightsaber...or, given his track record, he had gone  _ with  _ Leia and Aphra. 

The second option, unfortunately, was more likely. Artoo told Chewbacca so.

_ But that could not be. I have not seen his tracks.  _

“The probability is still high,” Artoo replied. “Given what I know of Luke, I know that he is highly unpredictable.” 

Chewbacca growled. 

_ Perhaps you are right. But I do not like it.  _

Neither did Artoo. 

“Be quiet,” he said; they had arrived. “How do we get in?” 

Chewbacca set Artoo down--to his great relief--and simply stood there, studying the hospital. He cocked his head to one side. 

_ Like this,  _ he had said at last. Then, he stepped forward and smashed both his hairy paws through the wall. 

Had he been organic, Artoo would have rolled his eyes. 

No wonder Luke and Leia liked Chewbacca. He could almost be a Skywalker right along with them. 

  
  


Aphra didn’t know how it had taken her so long to realize it: but yes, Ruya was gone. 

And, worst of all, it was her fault. 

It had been insane, crazy, a hectic mess to run through the hospital; and only now that she thought about did she recall that there had been a moment Ruya had asked her a question. Ruya had said something, where she was going--and Aphra had neither heard nor noticed. 

“Ruya’s gone?” Luke demanded. In a moment, she  _ saw  _ the blood drain from his face. “How long? How--” He stared. Something had dawned on him. “She  _ came with you?” _

“We don’t have time to explain it,” Aphra snapped. “She came to help us burn the eggs--without her, we wouldn’t have had any blaster bolts--and there was no way to bring her back to the ship. I thought she was with us, I--I--”

“Don’t--” Luke took a deep breath; he looked very much like he was trying to make himself calm down. “Slow down. We have to  _ find her,  _ Aphra, we don’t have time for self-blaming. Where could she have gone? Do you have any idea?”

“She…” Aphra racked her brain, trying to think. “I...I know she told me where she was going, but I didn’t hear--”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because there were dragons  _ killing everyone, Luke!”  _ Her voice was several pitches too high, but she didn’t care. “I knew we shouldn’t have brought a kid along. I know that. It wasn’t right, but she’d helped us, and there was nothing we could do. All I know is she told me she was going  _ somewhere--” _

Luke turned away. 

He...he was that upset. 

Aphra had never felt this awful--well, maybe Pandaki’s death still topped that, but only barely--in her entire life. Clearly, Ruya meant  _ something  _ to Luke, she didn’t know what, but something; and this was a worse blow to him than anything. With three dragons out there--

“I’m sorry,” Aphra said, her voice cracking. People were still running through the halls, panicking, but there were no dragons on this level and she...she wouldn’t have cared at the moment anyway. “I’m sorry, Luke. I tried--”

“Shh!” Leia hissed. “He’s not  _ upset.  _ He’s using the Force.” 

“No, I’m not.” Luke turned around; he hadn’t had to use the wall to help him. In addition, the look of panic was gone. “I was thinking. The first day, I traveled through the hospital with Ruya; she accompanied me when I was trying to escape from Vader. I had met her in the children’s wing of the hospital, where...where she had some friends.”

“Friends.” Suddenly it dawned on Aphra. “You think she went to save them?”

“It’s the only place she could have gone,” Luke said. “It has to be.” 

It had to be. Because, if he was wrong, if any of them were wrong, Ruya’s life would be in danger. 

More than it already was. 

“Where’s…” Leia frowned. “Luke, where’s the children’s wing?”

He sighed, his shoulders deflating. “Halfway across the hospital.” 

“What?” She shook her head. “No. No way. You can’t go there alone. What if we can’t get to you in time? What if you can’t get to  _ Ruya  _ in time? Your leg--”

“Will be fine,” he said firmly. “Leia, we can’t worry about that right now. We have to do what needs to be done.”

She looked at him; her eyes met his. They seemed to be having some sort of conversation, without using words. 

“You’re right,” she said. “We’ll get the patients out. But as  _ soon  _ as we get them out--”

“Yes. Yes, come after me.” Luke was already beginning to edge away, and Aphra couldn’t blame him; he was after Ruya. “We need to go!” 

“Of course.” Leia sighed. “May the Force be with you.” 

He nodded and turned to go. 

Aphra felt suddenly sick. What if...what if this was the last time...she ever saw him? 

“Wait!” she called. “Luke!” 

He turned around; this time he did stumble slightly. 

“What?” he asked. “Make it quick.” 

“I’m…” Aphra didn’t know how to say this around Leia. “I’m sorry.” 

Luke frowned, then shook his head. “No. No, Aphra, don’t worry about that. It’s not your fault Ruya’s missing. Like you said, the dragons--”

_ “No!”  _ It hurt that she couldn’t say what she wanted; but she’d have to make do. She clenched her fists, trying to think. “Not--not that. I’m sorry about...before. In the jungle.” 

She searched his face, met his eyes, silently begging him to understand. 

She saw the moment he got it. Sadness filled his eyes, deep sadness; he closed his eyes for a moment. Then he opened them. 

“That’s not your fault either,” he said. “You know whose fault it is.”

Aphra nodded. Leia already looked confused; they’d have to end it there. But it...it felt good to hear that from him, nonetheless. 

“Now go,” she said, forcing a smile. “Kill those dragons, Skywalker.” 

Luke smiled back; she had the feeling he was forcing it too. 

“On it,” he said. 

Then he turned, putting a hand on the wall, and was quickly out of sight. 

  
  


“Okay,” Leia said as soon as he was gone. “Okay! Come on, Aphra. We have a  _ lot  _ of work to do.” 

Aphra shook herself out of her trance. “Right. Right.” 

She looked around. How were they supposed to proceed? How would they get  _ all the patients  _ out? 

Then she noticed the desk the krayt had been hiding behind. 

Quickly, Aphra climbed over it, trying very hard to ignore the mutilated body on the floor, and pressed a button on the comm system. 

“Uh…” Oh, shit. Her voice was a lot louder than she’d though. “Uh...hello.” 

Leia rolled her eyes. “Move over, you idiot.” 

“Gladly,” Aphra muttered, stepping aside. 

“Listen to me,” Leia said, her voice ringing out clearly from the hospital loudspeakers. “We are here to get you out of this mess. Any doctors, nurses, and able-bodied people, please assist in moving all the patients to the docking bay on level B. We will help to make sure you make it out safely, and to kill any dragons that might try to kill you. Move quickly!” 

She hung up. 

“Good?” she asked, turning to Aphra. 

“You could give a speech to the Empire,” Aphra said with a grin. 

“I have,” Leia said, looking slightly insulted. 

Aphra shook her head. “Come on. We can argue later. Think we should split up?”

Leia seemed to think about it for a few seconds. Then, she nodded.

“I don’t want to,” she said. “But...the only reason we were even on this planet to begin with was to get several Rebels into intensive care. I want to make sure they get out safely.” 

Aphra didn’t like the idea of splitting up. But Leia seemed to care deeply about that.

“Okay,” she said. “But  _ stay on comms.  _ I don’t want you dying.”

“I don’t plan on it,” Leia said. “Meet me in the docking bay in twenty minutes.” 

  
  


Luke knew it wasn’t a good idea given his injury. But he ran. 

Ruya Naberrie was his cousin. She was a  _ good  _ relative he’d discovered; but beyond that, she had been his only source of hope over the nightmarish five days he’d been here, until Leia showed up. She had been one of the reasons he kept resisting Vader’s demands. She’d been a source of distraction at the beginning, while he was avoiding Vader; from the moment in the turbolift when she introduced herself, he had known he liked her. 

Ruya had worked her way into his heart long before he knew they were related.

_ Family isn’t restricted to blood.  _

_ Even if she weren’t my cousin, I’d be trying to save her anyway.  _

So Luke ran down the corridors of the hospital, terror and determination pounding equally in his blood, a picture of Ruya Naberrie in his head. He ran, skidding around corners, leaping down stairwells, heedless of his leg. It wasn’t that it didn’t hurt. Quite the opposite--the agony that had been slowly growing for three days was in full force now, a constant burning pain in his right leg. But he barely noticed it. 

Only Ruya mattered.

So he ran faster. 

  
  


The troops were all in the same wing. For that, Leia was thankful. 

She had to avoid the steady stream of people hurrying through the halls; she didn’t want to hinder the evacuation in any way. But she could hardly wait, could hardly breathe--they were under  _ her  _ command. She couldn’t have easily explained that to Aphra--but she could  _ not  _ let them die. 

Then, one of the doors read  _ Telos.  _

Telos Beaker. Gold Two. Leia threw the door open, stumbled inside--

Thank the Force there was no blood on the floor. 

Leia took in the scene quickly. There was a doctor, bleeding from a gash in his arm, trying to help Telos out of his bed. She moved forward. 

“I’ll help,” she said. “Get to the ships.” 

The doctor blinked. “You’re the one who gave the message.” 

“Yes,” Leia said tightly; she was in a hurry. “I did. Now, go! I’ll handle this, I promise.” 

“Thank you,” the doctor said, then ran from the room. 

Leia hurried to Telos’ side. He had been transmitted to the hospital, she knew, with an awful blaster wound in his side; he would have had to be put in a bacta tank. The fact that he was lying in a bed was a good sign--but still, he seemed to not be fully conscious. 

“Telos,” she said. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” Telos murmured, struggling to sit up. “I--” He gasped. “Princess Leia!” 

“That’s me.” It could not be expressed enough how short they were on time, but even so--even so Leia couldn’t help a smile. There was nothing like the serotonin she felt when her troops  _ trusted  _ her, when they were relieved to see her. “I’m here to get you to safety. Do you think you can walk?”

“For you?” Telos raised a hand in a sluggish salute. “Of course I can.” 

Leia had to help him walk, but he did it; and in the hall, they were met by two other Rebel troops. One looked all right, but the other was barely conscious. They, too, were shocked to see Leia; but she had to quickly wave off their praise. 

“Where are the others?” she demanded. “There were five of you altogether.” 

“Len was already escorted out by his nurse,” Kella explained. She was one of the ground troops. “But Denner…” 

She didn’t have to say anymore. Leia swallowed. Of course not all of them had made it. But thinking of any of the Rebels being devoured by one of those dragons…

Unbidden, a picture of Luke at the dragons’ mercy sprang into her head. 

Leia clenched her fists. What did she always tell herself? What had she said to Wedge and Lando back at the base?

_ There’s always another option.  _

There was a way...there was a way this could still work out, she thought. She knew the layout of this hospital well enough. Once she got her soldiers far enough...then...what would she do?

_ Luke  _ would have found a way. He always found a way. 

So would she. 

“Well, good to know most of you have made it out,” she said. “Let’s move.” 

  
  


Aphra didn’t think much; she only acted. That was the easiest thing to do. She tried not to think about Luke, or Leia, or Ruya, or all of the corpses and all the blood she ran fast; she only found the people who were  _ alive,  _ who she  _ could  _ help. Five days ago she might have stopped to think about what she was doing: there were people who might know her, people who might want to turn them in, and besides, what did they mean to her? 

But strangely, this time, she didn’t think about that. It didn’t even cross her mind. 

They didn’t run into any dragons as they went--for that she was grateful, even though it meant Luke might be running into them himself--so she didn’t have to witness any more people die. They were afraid, several injured by the dragons, and many of the patients already sick; but miraculously, they moved quickly. 

Aphra supposed they weren’t in any hurry to stick around the place.

It never should have been turned into a hospital anyway. The Empire should have found out whether the scientists were truly gone; and much as Aphra missed Pandaki, she had to admit that it was his deception that had put all these people at risk. 

It was the longest, most terrifying journey in the world to get down to the lower levels, but they made it; they made it all the way down the stairs--turbolifts were too dangerous, since the dragons had figured out how to use them--and past the front desk. There, they had to stop and get keys to all the ships; fortunately, one of the people near her was one of the desk managers and was able to do it quickly. 

“We’re almost there,” Aphra told them as they continued on; there was a constant air of anxiety among the people, and she wanted to at least try to reassure them. “We’ll be out of here soon.” 

She remembered coming this way to try to escape Vader. Who had been---ah, yes. Jamet had been with her, and--

Oh, right. He was also dead. 

_ Don’t think about him. Just keep going.  _

But where was Leia? It had been almost twenty minutes…

Maybe she was in the docking bay already. And maybe Aphra should just stop worrying. 

And then they had arrived.

“Here we are,” Aphra said, allowing herself a smile as she opened the door.

And a Canyon krayt jumped out at them. 

Aphra screamed--so did multiple other people--and blood sprayed as the dragon took down its first victim, an elderly man on a stretcher. 

_ Don’t let it happen,  _ whispered some voice in the back of Aphra’s panicked brain.  _ Don’t let them die.  _

One of the nurses screamed as her abdomen was ripped open. 

_ DON’T LET THEM DIE!  _

Finally Aphra got herself back under control; and almost unaware of what she was doing, she pulled the Mandalorian blaster and started firing. The dragon, about to kill another patient, looked up with a roar. She’d distracted it, at least. 

But without Leia and the acid blaster, she couldn’t kill it. 

That didn’t matter. All that mattered was that the dragon wasn’t  _ killing  _ any longer. 

“Get to the ships!” Aphra shouted as the dragon leaped towards her, and she fired at it again. “Get out of here!” 

Finally,  _ finally  _ the people started moving--out of the corner of her eye Aphra saw them--but immediately the dragon hissed and spun to block the way.

“No!” Aphra shouted. “Over here!” 

But the dragon  _ didn’t look at her.  _ And that was when Aphra realized just how smart those things were. The dragon had understood two things. 

One, that she was not easy prey. 

And two, that although the large blaster hurt, it was not life threatening.

So it kept killing. 

“NO!” Aphra was at her wit’s end; all she wanted to do was  _ stop the carnage,  _ but she couldn’t do anything. Desperately, she ran towards it, still firing. “Stop! STOP!” 

A doctor threw himself backwards...but not in time. His leg was torn off from the knee down. Aphra didn’t want to see him die, didn’t want to see anyone else die--

The dragon leaned forward.

And a hairy paw caught it in the side. 

Aphra stared, gasping, eyes wide, as another roar shook the building...but this was a very different type of roar. It was a  _ Wookiee’s  _ roar, and in this case, as Chewbacca stepped into the fray, he was actually the larger opponent. 

The dragon stopped killing. She edged back, eyes darting from Chewbacca to Aphra, as if wondering what she should do. 

Chewbacca lunged for the dragon again; she ducked, at the last possible second, and took a chunk out of his side. The Wookiee roared again and pressed forward; but he wasn’t going to last against the dragon either, as strong as he was. That chest armor was just too--

Aphra’s thoughts were cut off as the dragon was seized by a burst of electricity. She toppled over. 

And Artoo wheeled himself around the corner. 

Aphra had never been so glad to see that little bastard. 

But the dragon wasn’t done. She hauled herself back up, panting and snorting, and danced out of the way of Artoo’s next burst of electricity. 

Then, with hardly a sound, she ran in the opposite direction and was gone.

For several seconds, there was silence. And then--then the people started  _ cheering.  _ For Artoo, of course. For Chewie. And...and for Aphra. 

They were actually...grateful?

_ Maybe I can take a vacation from crime. Hero worship is pretty damn great. _

But they still had an objective to complete. Unfortunately, Aphra couldn’t be applauded forever. 

“What are you waiting for?” she shouted. “Get to the ships!”

It was an agonizingly long wait; she didn’t know what they were waiting for. But eventually, one of the doctors took the lead. 

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s not have any more deaths.” 

Then, fortunately, thankfully, they were all moving into the docking bay. 

“Thanks,” Aphra said to Artoo and Chewie. “I...I guess I owe you one.” 

_ Of course you do,  _ Artoo said. 

Chewie roared something. She didn’t speak Shyriiwook. 

_ He says for me to stop being such a little shit,  _ Artoo said. If droids could sound rueful, then he did. 

“Well.” Aphra smirked. “I think we both need to get told that once in a while.”

There was the sound of gasping behind her; Aphra turned around. Three Rebel soldiers were making their way toward her.  _ Finally.  _

But Leia wasn’t with them. 

“Where is she?” Aphra demanded, ignoring the fact that they all looked ready to pass out. “Where’s your princess?”

“She was with us,” said the female pilot. “Took us almost all the way here, and then--then she said she had something to finish up.” 

Shit. 

_ Shit.  _

_ Of course that was why Leia had wanted them to split up!  _

“Dammit,” Aphra snarled. “Damn her to the farthest corner of--” She stopped, shaking her head. That was why she liked Leia--and Luke. Both of them were like that. They were going to help people, at the cost of their own lives. 

Well,  _ someone  _ was going to help these people get on the ships. Aphra’s courage around those dragons only went so far. 

“Well--well--” She swore under her breath. “Get on the ships, then.” 

The Rebels looked slightly confused, but they limped past her. 

_ What is happening?  _ Artoo asked her.  _ Where is Leia? _

“She,” Aphra growled, “went to help Luke find Ruya. Because  _ of course she did.”  _ She shook her head. “You two stay here. With me. These people need to get evacuated. But after that…” 

Chewie roared something. 

_ After that we’re calling the Falcon,  _ Artoo translated. 

“Yes.” Aphra gripped the blaster tight. “Yes, we kriffing are.” 

  
  


It was so strange to be here--back in the same place, the place this had all started. But it had all been different then. 

Just five days ago, Luke had been here, he thought as he ran along the catwalk, watching the sky outside. Before, it had been sunset--a mixture of brilliant colors, pinks and reds and yellows. 

Now, all was dark. That seemed about right. 

He had been here, in this exact part of the hospital, to escape from Vader. Now, the Sith Lord wasn’t a problem...or, at least, Luke hoped he wouldn’t be. He was going to be a problem later--but it would really screw things up if  _ he  _ showed up on top of everything. 

_ Ruya.  _

_ Think about Ruya.  _

Luke emerged from the catwalk and into the children’s wing. He had made it. 

There was...there was blood on the floor. Not a lot of it; not nearly as much as there was in the rest of the hospital. But there were several drops. 

He followed their trail to where a little Togruta girl was sitting, clutching her wounded leg. 

“What happened?” he asked, trying as best he could to sound gentle. 

“There…” The girl wasn’t looking at him. She was staring straight ahead--she was in shock. “There was a monster.” 

Ruya had been here. Luke knew it. 

“Monster,” he said. “Right. Where did it go?”

The girl’s face crumpled.

“Another girl came to help,” she whimpered. “My friend...I hadn’t seen her in days…” 

Ruya. Ruya had been here. And so had the dragon...and neither of them were here…

_ No. No, no, no, please… _

She couldn’t be dead. 

She  _ couldn’t be dead!  _

“Where?” Luke demanded; the girl shrank back, and he realized he was sounding angry. Demanding. 

_ Like your father.  _

But it was so hard, so impossibly hard, when he was terrified for Ruya, when he cared so much about her--

He’d made the same mistake at Bespin. 

He hadn’t  _ felt  _ Ruya die. 

He took a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Where is she?”

“She...she ran…” The girl shook her head. “The dragon followed her, it ran after her, she’s probably dead now!” 

She wasn’t. She wasn’t--and she wouldn’t be any time soon. 

“You need to get out of here,” Luke said. He wished he could accompany her out, but he had to save Ruya. “There’s a group of evacuees; get to docking bay B. There should be signs.” 

“But--but Ruya,” the girl protested. “It’s my fault!” 

“No,” Luke told her fiercely. He understood too well feeling responsible for the deaths of others; but that just didn’t help anything. “No, it is not your fault.  _ I  _ will take care of it.” He pointed to the weapon on his belt. “I’m a Jedi.” 

The girl’s eyes shone. “Really?”

“Really.”  _ Okay. Okay, please be done, you need to get out of here, I need to get to Ruya--  _ “Now, please. Get out of here. I’ll save your friend.” 

The girl nodded, sniffling. She got up and walked toward the door. 

Luke took that as his opportunity. He ran. 

  
  


Maybe she had made the wrong decision. Maybe she was being stupid. 

But her soldiers were safe. She’d gotten them past the dragon; they’d waited, but it had not attacked them. It had gone straight toward the children’s wing. Out of their way, at the moment. 

Now it was in her way. She was headed that way herself. 

_ This is madness. This is absolute madness-- _

But she was doing it. 

Luke needed her, and everything else ceased to matter. 

  
  


_ Ruya. I have to get to Ruya, I have to get to Ruya-- _

Luke came to a stop in front of the turbolift; there was a three-toed mark on one of the buttons. 

No.  _ No.  _

_ They’d figured out how to use the turbolifts.  _

But when he opened the doors, there was no blood. Ruya hadn’t taken the turbolifts, then; maybe she’d been smart, and had taken the stairs. 

Luke had to count on that. 

He let the doors close, and waited as the lift took him down. He kept watching, feeling his heart speed up as the lights flashed and flickered above him--

There was a hole in the ceiling. 

_ So. I have you at last.  _

He closed his eyes. Ruya. Think of Ruya. 

The lift continued down, slowly, steadily...and the constant sense of dread he had felt this whole time, of danger, of terror, of  _ something,  _ grew. He couldn’t do anything about it, could do nothing but wait…

_ The Force is with me.  _

It wasn’t strong enough in his head. He tried saying it out loud. 

“The Force is with me.” His voice shook, at first, trembled, so he said it again. “The Force is with me. The Force is with me…” 

A memory struck him. He smiled. 

“The Force is with me, and I  _ am  _ a Jedi.”

There was a ding. The lift stopped, and Luke opened his eyes. 

_ Come on, come on… _

The doors slid open. 

He ran outside; he almost slipped in the trail of slime that met him, didn’t stop to think what it meant, didn’t stop to yell or think about how much pain that had caused him. 

_ Ruya. Ruya. Get to Ruya.  _

He kept running. He ran, faster than he’d run in Bespin--and that was a haunting similarity. There was a strange sense of deja vu about this whole situation, and that must be the cause. Besides the blood, besides the claw marks...the floors and the walls and the ceiling were white. As perfectly white, as spotless as Bespin, and--

There was a sound behind him, but Luke kept running. That didn’t matter. 

Nothing mattered. Nothing besides--  


_ Ruya, Ruya-- _

Don't let her be dead, she can't be dead--

The sound came again. It wasn’t close enough, not nearly close enough to be important. 

Unless--

“Luke!” 

Ruya’s voice. It was coming...it was coming from…

The room ahead, the darkened room...

Luke stopped. Dead. 

And then it dawned on him. 

Luke turned around and around, taking in the scene in horror, of the white walls and floors spattered with blood...the thing following him...the voice ahead, coming from that room…

There was a reason why he had a sense of deja vu. There was a reason why this all felt so familiar, why he felt like he’d been here before…

Because he had. 

He  _ had _ been here, over dozens of times. 

Because this was his vision, and in some form or another, it was about to come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me on my tumblr!  
> https://heartsofstars.tumblr.com/


	44. Eye Of The Hurricane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The vision comes true.

_ This is the vision.  _

For a moment, everything stopped. The pain in his leg, Ruya’s screaming, the entire situation--everything. It all ceased to matter. Instead, hundreds of images swirled inside Luke’s head: all the dozens of iterations of this vision that had accosted him up until this point, all the various things that had happened. Leia’s appearance, the white hallway, the marks stained in blood, Han calling for him, Ruya calling for him, Vader following him, Vader standing over him with his own lightsaber and Luke’s, the claw hand gripping the door...everything. 

But the visions were not the only problem. No, far from it. Beyond the visions, beyond the horror of what might be awaiting him, there was another realization. 

The last time he had had a vision of the future, it had ended...badly. To say the  _ least.  _

_ If you go to face Vader, you will do it alone. We cannot interfere.  _

They had told him. They’d warned him, he’d gone anyway, and…

_ Father!  _

No. 

Luke squeezed his eyes shut, but it didn’t help. Not at all. All he saw was the memories of Bespin, of his own father beating him down, of his failure to save Han and the subsequent destruction of his own innocence, the way his world was forever changed, and the temptation that had followed him since, like a shadow--and he also saw Vader towering over him, Ruya screaming, the dragons waiting for him. Past and future merged together, every horrifying moment and premonition and nightmare interconnected in a vast web of horrifying possibilities, a web that converged on…

This moment. 

This one, terrifying moment. 

For what felt like an eternity, Luke was frozen. There was nothing but him, and his own fear of the future. 

And then--

“Luke!” 

_ Ruya.  _

Suddenly, Luke remembered that she was there. She was still alive, and even without the sound of her voice he would have known it; he could sense her there, straight ahead of him. All he had to was walk to her. 

Walk the path of his vision. 

Easier than it sounded. 

So he stayed frozen, wanting to move but unable to...because he didn’t know what would happen. 

The terrible thing about the vision was that he never knew how it ended. He heard Ruya--or sometimes Leia, or Han--screaming, he was unable to reach them; Vader showed up to immobilize him, to threaten him; the dragons attacked; and everything faded out. There was no end--there was  _ no answer.  _

He knew how the vision started. He knew, roughly, what happened. 

But he had no idea how it ended. 

_ I can’t move--I can’t, I can’t-- _

Yet somehow, Luke found himself moving; found himself setting one foot in front of the other, the uninjured one, dragging it forward almost against his will until both feet were on the ground again. Distracted as he was by the current situation, he leaned on his injured leg. 

It spasmed--Luke bit back a cry and made himself lean on the wall, gasping until the pain vanished. And then, leaning there and waiting and wondering if he should stand up again, he had a realization. 

His leg had not been injured in the vision. 

In no iteration had his leg ever been injured. 

And that meant that reality, already, was  _ different  _ from what he had seen in his nightmares. It gave him hope, almost; to know that this would not be like Bespin. It was not a precise, accurate vision of the future; so maybe, just maybe, not everything would be the same. 

He took another step. His uninjured leg again--then the other, the injured one, and then another; they were slow, even steps, bringing him toward what was either victory...or his doom.  _ Turn back,  _ every cell in his body seemed to be shouting,  _ run! Get out of here!  _

But he was done running. 

The pain in his leg had never been easier to ignore; he pressed on, walking faster and faster as Ruya’s shout grew quieter. The white of the walls, given his memories of Bespin, was deeply unsettling--but he ignored that too. He ignored everything. He walked, almost dragging his injured leg behind him, one hand on his lightsaber, forward and forward and--

“Luke!” 

There she was again; she hadn’t fallen silent after all. Luke walked faster. He was almost there. Even without Ruya’s voice, he would have known exactly where to go; he would  _ never _ forget that door. 

Up ahead, there was a hiss. 

Yes, that was definitely a dragon in the room with her. 

He walked faster; his wound must have reopened, and blood dripped from it to mingle with the blood that was already on the floor, but he didn’t care. Several more steps--

A thought struck him--he looked around, taking in the  _ exact angle  _ of the corridor, three steps to the corner behind him, about ten to the door; his blood froze. 

This was about the point where Vader usually showed up. 

Luke wanted to reach out to the Force, to make sure, just in case; but then, that would distract him from Ruya. Time was of the essence here--he had to get to that door. 

If Vader came, he would come. For now…

For now, Luke’s only obligation was to save the girl who had wormed her way into his heart and gone to save  _ him,  _ or at least attempted to, several times already. She was courageous beyond her years, and he was not going to let that die. 

Luke clenched his fists, once again pushing past the constant pain in his leg, and dragged himself forward, forcing himself not to think of Vader. Step by bloody step, faster and faster across the horrible white floor, letting his anger at the dragons fill him...until he was at last at the door. 

He stopped short. 

_ The door.  _ Everything seemed to fade away from it, and then--

Fear was of the Dark Side. And he wasn’t going to let the Dark Side have a hold of him ever again. 

_ I’m not afraid,  _ he’d told Yoda once. But that wasn’t the point. The point was, whether or not he was afraid, to not let it  _ rule  _ him. 

_ I’ll stay afraid,  _ he thought,  _ but I’ll save Ruya anyway.  _

Putting one hand on his lightsaber, Luke took the final step forward, seized the door handle like a weapon, and threw the door open. 

  
  
  


Aphra was going to be angry. But more than that, she was going to be terrified. Leia had promised her she wasn’t going anywhere; she’d lose it when she found out what Leia had done. 

_ Then let her,  _ Leia thought as she ran through the halls of the hospital.  _ Let her. I’m not letting Luke die.  _

She never should have let him go off like that. And now there was a dragon headed his way…he wouldn’t be expecting it, if he had found the others. Which he probably had, Leia realized. She hadn’t seen them in any other part of the hospital yet; Luke had probably found them. 

Or they had found him. 

_ Don’t think about it, don’t think about it-- _

So Leia ran, making sure she had the acid with her; that was their only hope. It was difficult to follow the dragon; it was both stealthy and agile, which was a bad combination for her. It could leap downward several floors at a time; but it didn’t crash through walls or do things the other dragon species might have done, which meant there was hardly a trail for her to follow. 

And, as determined as she was, as fast as she had run, Leia was starting to lose her trail. 

She had arrived at a catwalk; the dragon had seemed to come this way, but she didn’t know for certain. It surely hadn’t left many tracks behind. There  _ might  _ have been one, here; but if there was, it was faint. 

Still, her instincts were telling her to go this way, so she did; there was a door at the end, and as she and Aphra had found out, these things knew how to open doors. 

This one led to the children’s hospital, Leia noted. Uh-oh. She dearly hoped that all the children were gone; if the dragon had come through here…

_ Don’t think about that.  _

She took a deep breath and walked through the door. 

There was nothing immediately out of place; an empty room awaited her, with signs leading to a restroom here, a wing of rooms there. She took a step forward. 

Something squelched.

Leia’s skin crawled; she looked down. She’d stepped in a pool of blood. 

_ Oh, no.  _

She was running forward immediately, heedless of the blood she stepped in on the way; she only hoped  _ desperately  _ that it was  _ not Luke,  _ it couldn’t be Luke, it couldn’t be him--

She hoped it wasn’t Ruya either. Leia rounded a corner, noticed a body on the ground; she didn’t want to look. But she had to. 

Fortunately, it wasn’t Luke, or Ruya. And the dragon was nowhere to be seen.

But the sight was horrifying nonetheless. It was a child, a Togruta girl; and she was bleeding from so many places Leia couldn’t count them. The worst, however, was a gaping hole in her side--and then there was the leg that had been bitten in half. 

Her eyes were open. Slowly, her legs and arms and every part of her shaking, Leia knelt before the girl’s body. She put a hand to her bloody, clawed-up face, trying to ignore the fact that one of her montrals was gone, and closed the child’s eyes. 

What a horrible, horrible death. 

But it could have been worse; it could have been so much worse. It hadn’t eaten her. For some insane reason, the dragon hadn’t…

Leia jumped to her feet with a gasp. 

The sight was horrifying enough. But that realization made it all the worse. As a child, Leia had learned that the difference between sentient and non-sentient beings was that non-sentients killed to eat, for survival; whereas sentients had the ability to kill for sport. 

The dragons, it seemed, were killing because they  _ wanted to.  _ At least part of the time; but this was proof of it. The girl was dead, but not  _ devoured.  _ The dragon had killed her for  _ sport,  _ and she had died an awful, painful death. 

Leia put a hand to her mouth. She could hardly stand to think about it. She wanted to run; wanted to be done with this entire damned situation, although even then she doubted she’d entirely be rid of the memories.

But then she remembered her purpose; she remembered Luke. 

He could kill these things. He could kill them, rid the world of them forever; but only if she helped him. 

So, slowly, forcing her eyes away from the horrible sight, Leia turned. The girl’s death, terribly, had been a last help to her: bloody tracks led from her body to a turbolift. The dragon must have gone down; that was the only option left. 

_ Luke, you’d better be alive,  _ Leia thought.  _ So you can help me drive the breath out of these monsters forever.  _

  
  


Ruya was alive. 

That was the only thing he saw. Luke didn’t focus on the rest of the scene at first; all he knew was that Ruya was there, she was  _ alive,  _ he wasn’t too late,  _ she was alive.  _

And then, he saw the rest of what was happening. 

Ruya was alive--but she was also clearly injured. She was bleeding from several scratches on her face, and again from a wound on her leg; there might be more. Luke couldn’t tell. But the more pressing concern was that there was not one dragon. There were two; and they were both standing over Ruya, like two guards. They...hadn’t eaten her. 

They hadn’t killed her. 

They were just waiting. But  _ why?  _

Luke couldn’t guess--mostly because he took in all that information in about two seconds. Then the dragons, having heard Luke’s entrance, spun around with identical hisses. 

Luke stood frozen at the sight of them, already starting to move towards him; he wanted to run. He wanted to get out of there. But one thing kept him steady. 

Ruya was  _ in the room.  _

She wasn’t dead, she wasn’t gone, Vader hadn’t shown up. The first awful event from the vision had not yet taken place. 

“Get away from her,” Luke told them.

The dragons stopped; they looked back at Ruya. For some reason, they didn’t want to move away from her.

Well, that wasn’t an option. Luke ignited his lightsaber. 

“Get away from her,” he repeated. “NOW!” 

The first dragon sprang at him. Luke jumped back as it launched itself through the air, in a leap straight for him--almost tripped when he set his injured leg down, but held himself up in time to bring the lightsaber across his chest as the dragon came for him. He fully expected the blade to bounce off, to not pierce--so he didn’t hesitate when it happened. He kept going; and that, for a moment, seemed to startle the dragon. It hesitated, for one second--and Luke took the opportunity to lift it with the Force and throw it into the wall, with as much strength as he could muster. 

He wasn’t going to kill them so easily, but thus far this was actually proving to be less terrifying than he had expected; and besides, he could feel the Force flowing through him, stronger than he had ever felt it before. 

So Luke spun toward the door, to the dragon that was still standing over Ruya. “Next?”

The dragon growled, low in its throat; then it moved, faster than lightning, to leap out the door towards Luke. Its claws swiped, and Luke barely moved out of the way in time; unable to use his lightsaber, he used the same trick on the second dragon, and threw it against the wall as well. 

But with a hiss, the first one was up; and Luke had to spin, regardless of his leg, to ward that one off--

But the second one was behind him. 

He turned, craned his neck; he couldn’t watch both of them at once! They stalked towards him now, greedy hunger in their eyes. They would kill him, and that meant that Ruya--

Ruya. 

She was still in the room. 

With a shout, Luke drew his arms in and then thrust them out, using the Force to throw both dragons in opposite directions. They would be up in a second, he knew that; so he ran--hobbled, more like, with his leg the way it was--back to the open door. Ruya was awake; but she seemed more dazed than anything. 

“Ruya!” Luke shouted. There was no time to waste; so when she didn’t get up, Luke ran into the room and grabbed her arm. “Get up, get up!” 

Ruya’s eyes blinked open, she focused on Luke; and then an expression of utter relief passed across her face. 

“You’re here,” she said, and it was a testament to the severity of the situation that she wasn’t irritated that she’d had to be saved, nor was there any sarcasm involved. “You came back.”

Luke swallowed. To think that after what had happened between him and Vader that he’d been tempted to leave the planet...to leave  _ her… _

Well, he hadn’t. It didn’t count if he hadn’t given in. 

“Of course I did,” he said. “But we’re not out of this yet. The dragons are--”

A hiss interrupted him. Luke spun around. 

_ Shit.  _ He’d been too slow, Ruya had taken too long to get up; so now they were trapped in the small room, and the dragons were there. 

Quickly, Luke got to his feet, pulling Ruya up with him. 

“Stay behind me,” he told her, and held up his lightsaber once more. He advanced slowly, because of his leg, but also so that he didn’t wear himself out.

_ This could be my last moment alive. Any second of this could be my last one alive.  _

_ Only if the Force wills it.  _

Luke looked over his shoulder once, to make sure Ruya had followed him; she had. But terror flashed across her face--

The dragons had lunged. Both of them. 

Luke swung his lightsaber; it startled the first dragon, but the second kept lunging, and Luke ducked. He was moving again, instinctively; he should have been at the end of his strength, he could feel himself shaking, but his body kept fighting, driving the dragons back even with the lightsaber that didn’t work without that acid. It was that, more than anything, that kept them at bay; at this point, they seemed to expect their prey to fall back in terror, and when Luke didn’t do that, it seemed to confuse them. 

Good. 

Several more strokes, several more seconds of staying alive--and then Luke had had enough. Using the Force to lift dragons into the air was growing harder and more exhausting by the minute, but he would do it a hundred times if it killed them and kept Ruya alive. 

With a shout, he lifted the first one and threw it straight into its companion; he couldn’t have done it to them both at once. Then he grabbed Ruya’s hand. 

“Run!” he said, but she didn’t need to be told to do it. They both limped despite their injuries, but they ran; and soon, they were outside. 

Ruya screamed. 

At first, Luke thought it was one of her injuries--and thus, he didn’t see the third dragon coming until its claws had collided with his chest. 

He was thrown slightly into the air by the force of it; and the landing wasn’t much better. He groaned, his entire body aching as he hit the ground face first--but the sense of danger had never left him for a moment. Luke dragged himself up; it was harder than he had thought, to first plant his knee on the ground, then pull the rest of him up--but he did it. 

And he was staring down three dragons. 

There were the first two, who were in the process of cornering Ruya; and somehow the third was here as well. He had  _ all three Canyon krayts  _ here with him. 

Oh, Force. Luke swayed on his feet, put a hand to his head; he was already beyond exhausted. He had spent almost everything he had...and he had three monsters to kill. 

Despite everything, he almost wished Vader was there…

_ No, you don’t. Most likely he’d make you face down the dragons yourself just to ‘prove’ you’re strong enough to be his son.  _

Luke gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. No, he had to do it himself. He had to do it to save Ruya. 

So he straightened up, made himself look the third dragon--which coincidentally happened to be the biggest of the three, that was great--in the eye. He reached for his lightsaber--

And came up with nothing. 

It  _ wasn’t there.  _

Then Luke realized the horror of his situation; when the dragon had thrown him through the air, the lightsaber must have gone the other way, and he had no idea where it was. How...how was he…

The dragon lunged. He tried to lift it with the Force, and failed; so, desperate, he did what he had with the Greater krayt during their first encounter and pushed against it. 

The krayt dragon slid backwards across the floor, at least fifteen meters. It was a tiny opening, but it was an opening; so Luke limped forward, towards Ruya. She looked up at him desperately--

And the krayt lunged for him again. 

Luke threw himself down; it was a mistake. His head cracked against the floor, and for a moment there was darkness. 

He didn’t know how long it was before he was conscious again, staring at the scaly foot of a dragon in front of him. He knew he should get up; he knew he  _ needed  _ to get up...but he couldn’t. 

_ I’m sorry, Ruya… _

A lightsaber ignited above him. 

Luke gasped, the memories of the vision flooding back at once. Vader--Vader must have shown up, somehow--

He sat upright, ignoring the pain that shot through his head, and--

“Missed me?” Leia said. 

Luke gaped. Leia was standing there, actually  _ holding his lightsaber.  _ Of all the things he thought he’d see…

But then, he vaguely remembered when Han had come to rescue him on Hoth; and in the midst of that was some memory of his friend igniting his old lightsaber, so he supposed Leia using his lightsaber for something wasn’t too strange. 

He wanted to hug her, more than anything; but there were the dragons and Ruya to think of. He turned his head to the third dragon, which, surprisingly, hadn’t attacked yet. 

But in light of everything, it made sense. This, to the dragon, was an unprecedented situation; it must be assessed first. But when it was done being assessed--

“The floor,” Leia said. She must not have trusted herself to hand Luke his lightsaber when it was ignited; and there, on the floor, was the acid blaster. Luke summoned it to his hand and fired. 

Even as his head felt ready to split in two, Luke had access to the Force. He couldn’t have missed. 

The dragon hissed; and then there was no time, not even to summon the lightsaber to his hand. Luke fumbled for his blaster--but Leia got to it before he did. The green lightsaber looked clumsy in her hands, like it didn’t quite belong there; but nonetheless, despite its weight, she lifted it and drove it forward, through the dragon’s chest. 

The dragon froze on the spot; it swayed. 

“Leia,” Luke said. “The lightsaber.” 

“Oh,” she said, and let go of the hilt. “Sorry.” 

Luke pulled it into his hand, and the dragon fell. 

“No problem,” he said. He stared at the dragon. “You just--you just killed a dragon. With my lightsaber.” 

“I did what I had to,” Leia said; but Luke could tell that she was having a problem not saying how awesome it had felt. 

_ Oh, it’s awesome, all right. Until you find out a mass murderer is your father and he cuts off your hand and tortures all your friends.  _

Luke’s train of thought was cut off as the other two dragons let out identical shrieks. Ruya had managed to hold them off--somehow, she had obtained a blaster--but at once, she ceased to matter to them, and they ran toward Luke and Leia. 

“Uh-oh,” Leia said. 

“Stay there!” Luke shouted to Ruya, right before the dragons lunged. Leia reached down to grab the acid blaster, and Luke held up his lightsaber. A thrill went through him, to be fighting side by side with Leia like this; if only Han were there, he thought. 

A second later, the moment was gone. The dragons, startled by the loss of their companion, were fully feral now; one went for Luke, the other for Leia. Luke drove his back first with his lightsaber; then, using the very last of his strength--these would both be dead in a minute--he seized the Force to throw it into the wall. After that, he wanted nothing more to collapse; but then there came the sound of Leia firing with the acid blaster, of the acid hitting the dragon’s chest, and he turned to face the monster. 

“Get it!” she shouted to Luke. 

“Gladly,” Luke said, and swung his lightsaber. 

Then something moved in his peripheral vision. 

“Behind you!” Ruya shouted; Luke stopped his downward stroke, tried to turn back to look behind him--

He turned just in time to see the second dragon’s tail swing at him full force; it caught him in the legs, and he shouted in pain. He flew through the air, dropping his lightsaber for the second time--the wall came to meet him--and then everything went black. 

  
  


Luke was down; Luke was down, and he hadn’t gotten up. 

So many things had happened in the last hour that Ruya didn’t know what to expect; but after Princess Leia had arrived, she’d expected the dragons to die soon. The two of them were working together, after all. But the dragons were too fast; and now Luke was lying on the floor, motionless. 

“Luke!” Ruya shouted. “LUKE!” 

But he didn’t get up. 

And now Leia was left with the dragons; she was desperately trying to fumble with both the blasters, but she couldn’t take both the monsters at once! Ruya gritted her teeth. Her back still hurt from the other day, and she had a bunch of cuts in her side and arm; but Leia needed her. Luke needed her, and the lightsaber was right there. 

She reached down, without hesitation, and tried to pick it up. 

It was too heavy. It didn’t look heavy; but apparently it was, because she tried to pick it up, but her arms shook and then it was back on the ground. 

She couldn’t do it. 

But Leia--

Ruya looked. The princess was on the floor; there was a wound in her arm. She hadn’t seen it, but it must have happened so fast--

She still had a blaster. She could help. 

“Hey!” Ruya ran toward the dragons. “Hey--HEY! Get away from her!”

The dragons spun on her with a hiss, and Ruya almost screamed; she still remembered how terrified she’d been to find them leaning over her, their eyes trained on her…

Luke was still motionless on the ground. 

One of them had been hit by the acid blaster; one of them could die, if Ruya hit it right. Her hands shaking, she brought up the blaster and fired at the one she thought had been hit. 

She missed. 

No, no, no--this was their last chance. She had to do it, she had to--

The dragons came closer. Ruya fired again--missed again. 

_ Come on!  _

Grandmother would have been able to do it; Aunt Padme surely would have been able to. Clenching her teeth, Ruya squinted and fired. 

It hit. 

She gasped, almost laughed in surprise. She’d done it, she’d actually done it! But…

The dragon wasn’t dead. 

Why? Why wasn’t it dead? She’d hit…

No. No, she realized, it was the  _ other one  _ that had the smear on its chest. She’d gotten the wrong one. 

And she wouldn’t have another chance. She knew that immediately, seeing the look in the dragons’ eyes; they wouldn’t give her another chance. 

_ No.  _

This couldn’t be the end, it couldn’t--she had to help Luke. She had to help Leia; but as one dragon stood guard over the Princess, the other one lunged for Ruya. With a shriek, Ruya threw herself on the ground, trying to scramble to get away--

Her back hit the wall. 

And there was the dragon, inches from her face. Ruya held her hands over her head, tears streaming down her cheeks; she’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry, but she was about to die. She couldn’t really help it. 

_ Please don’t let it hurt… _

_ I really don’t want to die, please… _

The dragon was right there…there was some kind of slime dripping right onto her...

The dragon, Ruya realized, was  _ staying  _ right there. It wasn’t moving. It wasn’t moving away from her; but it was close enough to bite into her, to devour her whole, and it...it wasn’t doing it. 

Why? Ruya couldn’t think. She could only stay there and shake in terror. 

But then, slowly, inch by inch, the dragon began to move away. Its limbs were trembling, its entire body was trembling, as if it wanted to move; but it continued to be dragged away, as if...as if by…

As if by some invisible force. 

Slowly, Ruya lowered her arms and looked up. 

Luke, against all odds, was standing. He looked terrible--his face was white, there was blood dripping from his leg, and he was trembling; but one arm was outstretched, and it was slowly, ever so slowly pulling the dragon toward him. 

  
  


Luke had no idea how he was doing it; he knew he had pushed past what he considered to be his limits a long time ago. But at this point, he wasn’t really thinking about what his limits were or how exhausted he was; he only knew that he needed to save Ruya and Leia. 

He needed to save  _ everyone.  _

So, even as he fought to stay upright, he poured all his strength into dragging that dragon away from Ruya, pulling it through the air toward him; it needed to get away from her, and focus on him. On  _ him,  _ not the kid. Not his cousin. Not an innocent girl. 

There was a sound; a hiss, from behind him, and he spun--the other dragon was lunging--he thrust out his hand and stopped that one too, in midair, even as its maw was reaching for him. One--then the other--one--two--his head whipped back and forth, his focus torn as he concentrated all his will on keeping both the dragons at bay. 

But they had tormented him long enough; they had tormented  _ everyone  _ long enough. They  _ needed  _ to die, they needed to be gone, and  _ he was willing to do it.  _ And so, even as the dragons snapped and strove for him, even as his strength was sapped from him, Luke felt it all at once: he wanted to drive the breath from their lungs. He wanted to  _ kill them.  _

They had done so much, because of the fallibility of some stupid scientists; they had murdered dozens of people, innocents, most of them; they’d wreaked havoc; and it was going to stop now. 

They wouldn’t hurt Ruya ever again. 

They wouldn’t touch Leia ever again. 

They wouldn’t hurt Aphra, or Sola, or  _ anyone.  _

And then the dragons  _ choked.  _

He was using the Dark Side. He was using the Dark Side to kill these dragons, exactly what he’d promised he’d never do--horrified, Luke stopped. 

The dragons fell to the floor. 

He couldn’t use the Dark Side. The purpose didn’t matter; because he had used it once...and now, as he’d feared, it had been  _ easier  _ to use it again. 

_ I can’t. I can’t use it...I can’t become my father.  _

The dragons, beginning to recover from what Luke had almost done to them, began standing up. 

And that was the other problem. Luke couldn’t surrender to the Dark…

But he couldn’t let the dragons live, either. 

How was he supposed to kill them without using the Dark Side? He knew he was supposed to kill them; he’d killed monsters before, and that’s what they were. But…

He wasn’t strong enough in the Light to kill monsters with the Force; he could only do it if he used the Dark. That’s what had been proven to him, time and time again. 

There was a snarl--the dragons were moving--they lunged. Luke stretched out with his hands, stopped them in midair; his leg  _ burned,  _ worse than it ever had before, and he cried out. 

But that was still nothing compared to his inner turmoil. The dragons had to die...but how could he do it without using the Dark Side? 

How…

The dragons snarled, snapped at him; there was a singular feeling, in that moment, to reach out and drive the breath from them with every bit of anger Luke possessed. The feeling was almost impossible to ignore. As hard as he tried, it was as if every dark thing or being in the universe was pulling at him to do it. To give in, just this once; to kill the dragons, to do what he’d wanted to do for five days. His friends probably wouldn’t even care if he gave in. They wouldn’t know. 

But  _ he _ would know. 

He would know--because every day, in every difficult situation he faced, using the Dark Side would be easier and easier. 

Was there no other way? Luke racked his brain, even as he struggled and strained to hold the dragons in place; even as his hold began to slip, and those teeth snapped closer and closer to him. 

_ There’s got to be a better way,  _ he thought desperately; he could no longer pretend that there was no pain in his leg. The dragons kicked and snarled and fought; and Luke found himself falling, stopped himself just in time by dropping to his knees. 

But he couldn’t do this for much longer; he could feel that. He had to decide now which decision to make: to keep resisting, to find another way...or to give in to that desperate need, that desire that was in his blood, that had been pulling at him for an entire month and more. 

Would giving in really be so bad? Could Vader have been right? It would be so nice to just stop fighting, for just a second; to give in, to take this desperate desire and the darkness that he knew was in him and let it all out. If there was indeed no other way…

_ There is no other way.  _

Vader’s words at Bespin stopped him; and suddenly he remembered, with utmost clarity, stepping backward off the platform to what he had thought was his death. But it hadn’t been for the purpose of killing himself; that hadn’t been it. What it had been was another option. 

There was  _ always  _ another option. 

_ Look inside yourself,  _ Obi-Wan had told him; Luke remembered that suddenly, remembered their entire conversation.  _ You are not perfect.  _

_ You will make mistakes...but as long as you truly learn from them, it is as if they never happened.  _

_ You are not your father.  _

He had used the Dark Side before; he’d used it to...to stop his father from killing Aphra. 

To...save her. 

And that hadn’t been right, he shouldn’t have done that, but…

But it was the  _ motive.  _ The motive behind using the Dark Side had been to save his friend; but he had also been angry, furious at Vader. 

The motive behind killing the dragons was because he hated them. 

But--and this would take effort, he knew that--but why, when he looked at his friends in pain, did he have to be angry? That seemed to be the default response; that would have been  _ Vader’s  _ default response. 

And yet there was another reason to kill the dragons: to get rid of them so that he, and his friends, and everyone on the planet could live in safety and peace. 

To save lives. To save everyone’s life. 

That was the one, singular goal. 

_ No,  _ something in Luke’s mind seemed to snarl; it was resistant to change.  _ You should be angry. Why not get revenge on the dragons? It would feel good.  _

It would.

But it wouldn’t feel good when, someday, Luke was unable to even use the Light anymore. Unable to bask in its warm, comforting sensation of peace, unable to even think about it because of how much hate had taken him over. 

_ It would feel so good... _

_ Never,  _ he thought. 

And then his eyes flew open, and he stopped sliding backwards on the floor; and even as the dragons started to drop back towards the floor, his grip on them tightened. He held them up, stared into the eyes of these creatures that had tormented him and all his friends for five days…

_ KILL THEM!  _

But he was still thinking in anger; and as he looked at the dragons, Luke realized something important. As horrible as these dragons were, they had never  _ asked  _ to be brought back to life. They had been extinct--they’d died out a peaceful death on Tatooine, and had been brought back in a much more vicious form. They had never asked for that; and suddenly, despite everything, Luke could find it in himself to pity them. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry you were brought back into a world that didn’t want you; you never asked for that. You were done a great injustice, and I’ve been fighting you in anger this whole time.” He took a deep breath. “But I’m going to make it right.” 

His voice was rough. He could barely keep his hold on them, his leg burned, and beyond that, the anger inside continued to pull at him; so Luke focused on that deep anger. He let it drive him to his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain as he set his leg on the floor, and stood upright. 

He focused on the anger. He let it wash over him; and for a moment, just a moment, the dragons choked. 

And then, he let it go. 

What hit him immediately was an overwhelming sense of pain; he cried out, gasped, as it threatened to drive him back to his knees again...but he held himself steady against the oncoming storm, held onto the last vestiges of his strength for all it was worth. Everything depended on his ability to use the Light now; to remain strong, to kill the dragons for the sake of everyone still on Felucia. 

_ I am one with the Force,  _ he thought.  _ I am one with the Force-- _

The dragons snarled. Luke took a step forward, holding them suspended in the air; then another, and another, feeling his power grow even as his strength was sapped and his arms shook and his leg screamed pain at him. 

One of the dragons fought like mad; kicked, shrieked, hissed, and before Luke knew it its mouth was millimeters from his fingers. 

He gritted his teeth against the pain, sweat streaming down his face and neck and back, and took another step forward.  Something escaped him, amidst the struggle: a sound, a scream from deep inside him, the physical release of the struggle that he had fought to win for so long. The dragons were not going to defeat him--whether on the outside or the inside. They were not. 

_ I am one with the Force. I am one with the Force.  _

_ I am not like my father.  _

_ I am NOT like my father!  _

_ Then what are you?  _ something seemed to be asking him.  _ If you are not your father’s son, then what are you?  _

The dragons struggled. Fire traveled up and down Luke’s leg; the world threatened to bend and give way around him, but the Force remained ever present with him. 

He was doing this for his friends--and for the galaxy. 

There had been a monster inside him for so long: a growing creature, as ferocious as Vader or any of these dragons, and it was rooted in his innate desire to be  _ like his father.  _ To make him proud. And what Bespin had done was take that desire and turn it inward on him, poison it, flip Luke’s world upside down--because now, was he supposed to be a Sith as well? To make his father proud, to be a good son...did he need to turn to the Dark Side? 

But the answer was in the problem. 

It had been unhealthy, from the very beginning, to want to be  _ exactly  _ like his father. Luke was his own person, after all. And the desire for his father to be proud of him, to love him...that would never go away. He knew that. 

But realistically, it was never going to happen. And, whether it did or not, the point was that he was  _ stronger  _ than Vader. Stronger than Anakin Skywalker. He could choose to do that; he could choose to believe that his love for his friends was not a weakness, but that it made him stronger. 

His love for his friends made him able to tap into this side of the Force in a way that Vader never could. 

And thus, the monster was destroyed. 

_ Who are you?  _

The answer came. 

_ I am a Jedi.  _

Luke looked at the dragons, these enemies who he had sought so long to kill, the monsters who had given him his awful wounds and hurt his friends and killed Pandaki...and then, he let them go. 

_ Be free,  _ he thought, thinking of Masu, the sweet dragon who he had befriended.  _ I am sorry for you. I release you.  _

_ Be free.  _

The dragons went limp. 

  
  


_ I am a Jedi.  _

Miles away, buried beneath a pile of rubble, Darth Vader opened his eyes. 

At first, he was uncertain what had driven him to consciousness, or what had happened. There was a distant beeping from his suit; something had malfunctioned. That much he was aware of. Something had fallen over him, but…

_ Luke.  _

He sensed it, even from such a distance; Luke was using the Force, but it was more than that. His son had finally tapped into his full potential as a Force-sensitive...and he had…

He had done it with the Light. 

It was such a visceral sensation: the feeling of peace and calm washed over and through Vader, in a way he hadn’t felt in  _ years,  _ but...but, strangely, it wasn’t uncomfortable. 

And then it raised a question. 

If Luke could be that strong in the Light...what did that mean for him? Was there a possibility that…

No. There was no chance for him. Not anymore. 

All he knew was that Luke would be fighting the dragons. Luke was alive, Luke had tapped into the Force--and in that moment, Vader felt such pride in his son, the child that had become so good despite who his father was, that it overwhelmed everything else that he had felt. 

And then it was eclipsed by something else. Palpatine.

This was  _ horrible.  _

If Luke was using the Light so strongly, if he had utterly refused the Dark Side...then he had just signed his own death warrant. Palpatine would not stand for that; when he heard of what had happened, when he felt it in the Force--as he surely would--he would come here, he would command Vader to take up his lightsaber and--

_ No.  _

Vader didn’t know how he was going to solve that problem. But what he did know was that he knew where Luke was, and he could get to him. 

_ You’re a parent. You have a child. All that matters is protecting him!  _

Suddenly the house that had buried him was nothing. Vader stood, despite whatever had malfunctioned with his suit; with a touch of the Force, the rubble was flung to the winds. 

At his feet, Sola stirred. Her eyes fluttered open; when she noticed who was standing over her, terror flitted first through her eyes, followed immediately by anger. 

“I am going to find my son,” Vader told her. “Return to the ship.” 

Sola stared at him for a moment longer, as if scrutinizing him; and then, finally, some of the anger melted from her eyes. She nodded slowly. 

And then, there was no time to waste. Luke’s use of the Force had, mercifully, let Vader know exactly where his son was: the hospital. 

Of course. Where it had begun, so would it end. 

  
  


The dragons were dead. It took a moment for that to sink in; they were dead. The Canyon krayts were gone. With a shuddering gasp, Luke released his grip on them, and their bodies fell. 

Then he was staggering backward, hardly seeing; he could barely even feel his leg anymore. He grasped vaguely for the wall, his fingers brushed it--and then, feeling like he was floating, he let himself tip sideways and lean against it. 

Something warm touched him. Slowly, Luke turned to see Leia standing there; at her side was Ruya. 

“Oh,” Luke said softly, his voice hoarse. “Hey.” 

“Hey,” Leia echoed with a laugh. “You...I don’t believe it, Luke. You did it, you--”

“That was badass,” Ruya said. 

Leia shot her a look. “I mean, yes, but you shouldn’t be using language like that.”

“Oh, so you all get to use it,” Ruya said, “but kids can’t, right? What a double standard!” 

She grinned. 

“Anyway.” Leia shook her head. “I’m going to call for Wedge. We need to…” She looked down at Luke’s leg. “We’re getting off this planet. You need medical attention.” 

Luke wanted to say no, because something seemed wrong; he’d just killed the last two Canyon krayts, but something was wrong, just a little bit off. 

Then he tried to stand upright; his vision whited out. 

“Okay,” he gasped when he could see again. “Okay. Maybe...maybe you’re right.” 

_ “Maybe?”  _ Leia rolled her eyes. “If  _ this  _ is what it takes to get you to admit you need help--”

_ Thud.  _

“What…” Leia’s voice was small. “What was that?” 

“We need to get out of here,” Ruya said. 

“Yes,” Leia snapped, “but there’s no way Luke’s going to walk like this--”

_ Thud.  _

Yes, something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong; and that, more than anything, was what made Luke focus on his surroundings, made him push himself up despite the blinding pain the action gave him. This wasn't over.  


“Wedge,” Leia said into her comlink, her voice sounding anxious, “Wedge, we need you to come get us. Now!” 

Luke didn’t hear the response. 

He didn’t think Leia heard the response either. 

Because, at the end of the hall, the walls of the hospital trembled, shook, and gave way with a thundering crash; and then through the dust, through the piles of brick and stone that ruined what was left of the beautiful white floor, came the  _ real  _ monster, the one that had caused the most damage from beginning to end. 

The Alpha. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhh, I'm SO SORRY I took so long to update this! I've been having a real rough semester, the play I'm stage manager for is about to go on this week, and throughout October, the only free time I had was turned to writing prompts for Whumptober/Flufftober/Angstober. But I finally got a bunch of my assignments turned in, so HERE WE ARE! As previously mentioned, this week is also super busy for me, but I'm gonna try to get the next two up ASAP, cause, uh...things are getting intense, that's all I'll say.
> 
> Also apologies for getting uber philosophical with the Force but I'm passionate about that aspect of the love, what can I say


	45. Seventh Iteration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter has some pretty icky stuff gore wise. I'd say it's one of the worst chapters of the fic in this sense. If you can't handle that, please take care of yourself.

Lord Vader’s message had been simple: make certain that no word of what had happened on Felucia left the _Executor;_ and second, that if Palpatine tried to contact the ship at all, that the only thing they were to tell him was that Vader was still busy, and would return by the end of the day. 

That had been almost twenty-four hours ago. 

Veers hadn’t dared to wake Piett; following the conversation with Vader, he had forced his friend to go off and sleep for as long as he needed. And although he was concerned, there was no way that he was going to force Piett to deal with it. The Admiral had dealt with the situation enough by this point. 

But that didn’t mean things weren’t concerning. 

It had been twenty-four hours...and yet, Vader had not sent them any kind of message. Nor had Veers been able to tell, from this distance, what was happening on the planet. 

Everything had gone radio silent. 

And, unfortunately, due to his orders, he knew he could not intervene. Vader had told them, explicitly, that they were not to interfere with whatever was happening on Felucia. Especially not after they had interfered once already. 

He couldn’t dare to break his orders again. 

But as the twenty-fifth hour came and gone, Veers decided it had been long enough. He wasn’t going to go down to Felucia...not yet. But he was going to get ready. 

There had been occasions, after all, when he had had to give Lord Vader assistance. The times had been few and far between, but they had happened. And these dragons...Veers had seen them himself. They were worse than any creature he had ever seen or heard of. 

So, leaving Piett to rest, he went to find an officer who was standing nearby.

“Ready a shuttle,” he told the girl. “Make it discreet. Tell no one; but have it ready to leave for Felucia. If you fail to keep it secret,” he added, “I’m sure that Lord Vader will have something to say about it.” 

The officer turned white. Veers almost felt sorry for her; but the fear that accompanied serving on the _Executor_ was necessary to ensure that all tasks were carried out perfectly. And this task was more important than most. 

As the officer mumbled a quick promise and scurried away, Veers turned to stare out at Felucia, at the planet below. 

Where in the galaxy was Lord Vader? What was _happening?_

  
  
  


“What the hell--” Leia gasped. Another dragon had appeared out of nowhere, and this one--this one looked _ungodly._ It was almost as huge as the Greater krayt had been, but it had...it had the eyes of the Canyon krayts. There was an _intelligence_ there, a shrewd glance that was absolutely terrifying. “What the _hell_ \--”

“It’s the Alpha,” Ruya said, her voice quiet; somehow, she wasn’t freaking out. “She gave Luke his leg injury.” 

His leg injury. The leg injury that had gotten worse and worse and was now infected. 

With the sight of that dragon--the _Alpha_ \--in front of them, it made perfect sense.

“She…” Leia gaped at the monster for a second more before yanking out her comlink. “Wedge! Wedge, come on, we need help _right now!_ We’re trapped in the hospital and--”

“It’s too late.” Luke’s voice, quiet and rough, cut her off. He was still leaning on the wall, leaning on her, but slowly, he pushed himself up. “Leia, you know it’s too late. The dragon’s _right there.”_ He shook his head, and a look came into his eyes: a look of sad acceptance. She didn’t know what it meant. “We don’t have time.”

“Well--” Leia gritted her teeth. “Oh, snap out of it! You know that’s not true! You’re the one who says there’s always hope--”

“Leia.” Luke’s tone was serious enough that she stopped talking. “You haven’t seen this dragon in action. She…” He clenched his right hand into a fist. “Not even Vader could take her.” 

Given how much pain Darth Vader had caused everyone, that statement was horrifying. 

And Leia understood it. But she didn’t _want_ to. 

“This can’t be the end,” she said, staring at the dragon at the end of the hall. If that thing charged...she’d have them in five steps. “It _can’t._ We even killed all the others--”

“It’s not the end,” Luke said quietly. He was staring straight ahead, as if talking to himself. “At least, not for you.” 

Then he pushed himself up and let go of Leia completely. 

And, step by limping step, he began to walk forward. 

_Thud._

The ground shook; the Alpha, horrifying in her monstrosity, took a thundering step. At the same time, Luke came towards her. 

And then, Leia finally understood. 

“Luke,” she gasped. She started to run after him. “Luke, stop!” 

_Thud._

Luke stopped. And then, very slowly, he turned around. 

“We...Leia, we can’t escape,” he said. “I couldn’t go very fast with my leg; she’d catch up to us eventually. And even working together we wouldn’t be able to kill her.” He sighed; and then a bitter smile came over his face. “But you can escape. You have to--”

 _“No,”_ Leia snarled. “No, no, Luke, _no,_ I won’t hear about it--”

“You have to take Ruya and get out of here,” Luke continued; his tone was calm, but his face white as a sheet. “She’s injured. She--”

“I won’t _fucking hear about it!”_

Luke blinked, as if surprised; and then he reached out a hand to take one of Leia’s. 

“Listen to me,” he said evenly. “If Ruya stays here, she’ll be an easy target for the Alpha. And I can’t let her try to get to an evac ship on her own; someone has to take her. But, Leia, if I stay here…” He looked over his shoulder at the bodies of the three Canyon krayts. “There’s a chance--a _chance--_ that I can still kill her. I did it to those two krayts.” 

“Yes, but--” How in the galaxy could she convey _just how terrible_ Luke looked? “You just about spent all your strength doing it! Luke, you’re--you’re barely standing. You won’t be able to do it!” 

_Thud._ The Alpha was coming closer. 

“You were the one who told me I should believe in myself,” Luke said. “Listen, Leia...I--I don’t like to say this very often, but…” He sighed. “It’s the only way.” 

Leia hated having her words thrown back at her; even more, she hated being told that there wasn’t another option. But, as hard as she tried, she couldn’t think of one that would leave them all alive. 

And the dragon was right there. She was almost on them; soon, no one would be able to escape. 

But…

Fiercely, she gripped Luke’s arm. 

“Then you had better promise me,” Leia said through clenched teeth, “that you’re going to _make it,_ Luke. We’ll leave, I’ll get the _Falcon_ over here as fast as I can, and when we show up, _you had better be alive.”_

“I will,” Luke said softly. “I promise.” 

“Take--take this.” Leia fumbled with her jacket for a moment before she’d drawn the acid blaster. “You need it. It’s the only way you’ll beat her.” 

With a nod, Luke took the blaster. 

“He’ll make it,” Ruya said at her side. “He just killed those dragons with his mind. He can do it!” 

Leia closed her eyes. The faith this child had in the Jedi...if only she knew. 

Ruya hadn’t seen Luke after the Bespin ordeal. She hadn’t seen how awful and broken down he’d looked then, hadn’t seen the way he seemed to be fighting with something inside himself…

_Thud._

Luke clenched his fists and stepped away from her. Slowly, as if fighting against his own will, he turned around to face the Alpha. 

“Go,” he told Leia firmly. _“Go!”_

“Luke,” Leia started, but then her friend thrust out a hand. Leia was thrown backwards, skidding across the floor; Ruya ran after her. 

Luke turned around to look at her. 

Reluctantly, not wanting to leave, Leia got to her feet. She hated this, hated the feeling that this was the last time she would ever see him, because it _wasn’t true--_

And yet…

The dragon took another step forward; and finally, Luke turned back to face it. It struck Leia, then, how utterly small Luke looked, standing against the monster like that. 

“Let’s go!” Ruya said, pulling at Leia’s hand. 

_Please,_ she thought--she supposed she was praying to the Force, though she’d never been able to control it. _Don’t let him die._

There was a whisper on the wind. Somehow, it felt like a promise. 

Leia took one final look at Luke; and then, it was really time to go. Closing her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall, she ran. 

  
  


Leia and Ruya disappeared; and finally, Luke allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. Besides the Alpha, there were no more dragons in the hospital. 

Of course, provided that he gave them enough time to get away. 

Slowly, wishing with all his heart that he could keep looking at Leia, that he didn’t have to face the dragon, Luke turned around to face the Alpha. Within four steps, she had crossed almost half of the long corridor; four steps to go, he thought grimly. 

But as Luke turned to look at her, the Alpha stopped walking, for just a moment; she stopped, to look down at her opponent. A gleam came into her eyes. 

Luke couldn’t understand it--she had seemed to pick him out as her enemy from the beginning. He had thought it would’ve been Vader; but then Vader, he realized, _looked_ like a monster. He was humanoid, of course, and smaller than a dragon, but despite all that the Alpha must have seen him as some kind of equal. Luke, maybe, she had underestimated; and when she’d been unable to kill him, she had grown angry. 

_Then let her be angry,_ Luke thought. _I just don’t want her to kill anyone else._

The idea of facing her alone was, quite frankly, terrifying. Leia had been right; he could barely stand, and his head was throbbing from being knocked into the floor three times in a row, and his chest was hurting where the Canyon krayt had scratched him, not to mention all the other minor injuries he’d sustained thus far; and beyond that, he was simply _exhausted._ He had used the Force to kill the Canyon krayts, and it had worked, but it had just about sapped everything out of him. 

But then, he hadn’t thought he could do that either. 

He just had to keep pushing his limits until he won. The Alpha had to die. 

So Luke took a staggering step forward. He let himself catch his breath; and then, he looked up at the Alpha. Right into her eyes. 

She seemed surprised, for a moment, at the fire she must have seen. 

“Hello, again,” Luke said. “You’re not going to kill anyone else. Do you understand?” 

The Alpha seemed to understand. There was determination in her eyes as well; and then she took another step forward. 

_Thud._ The ruins of the hospital shook, and Luke almost fell over. 

He gritted his teeth, stretched out an arm; the lightsaber on the floor wavered for a moment, then flew into his hand. 

_Thud._

_Thud._

Suddenly Luke realized how fast she was gaining; quickly, he took two steps back and ignited his lightsaber.

And then the Alpha was there. 

Luke swung, catching her in the chest; as he’d expected, the blade bounced off, and Luke threw himself to the side to avoid the claws that came after him. He rolled along the ground, dropping his lightsaber for just a second; that worked just as well, because by the time the Alpha realized she hadn’t gotten him, Luke was standing and had the lightsaber in his right hand and the blaster in his left. 

“Gotcha,” he said, firing a blast straight at her chest. 

And the Alpha _dodged._

With a crash that shook the earth, she threw her _entire body_ to the side, almost as nimble as the Canyon krayts. Luke’s eyes blew wide; and in that moment he realized what a task he had in front of him. 

The Alpha was quick to regain her feet; with a second crash that sent Luke stumbling backwards, she was standing again, snarling with all the anger she seemed to possess. 

Like all the dragons, she clearly _hated_ that acid. 

“Okay,” Luke said, readjusting his grip on the lightsaber. “Game on.”

  
  


The impossible had happened, and Vader didn’t know what to think of it. 

He had clearly felt Luke triumph against the dragons; even from this distance, it had been obvious that his son had tapped into a side of himself rarely explored, and that afterwards there had been nothing but relief. That had given Vader relief of his own, for Luke had finally come into his own, had finally pushed through his pain to stand against the dragons. It was exactly what he had wanted Luke to do from the beginning--what he had _known_ Luke could do. 

But despite that, despite the triumph he now felt...there was also a small sense of regret. Regret that he had not been there, to watch Luke do it--

Regret that he had not _helped_ him. That was it. 

Because, regardless of the relief Luke now clearly felt, there was also deep exhaustion, and pain. Fighting the dragons had taken everything out of him; it was because of this that Vader was now walking, as quickly as he could, toward the hospital. 

And he continued to try not to think of Palpatine. 

Vader had tried to convince himself that that situation could be dealt with later; he had not been successful. The fact was that Luke had _fully_ committed himself to the Light Side of the Force...and then there was the fact that _this_ had been Vader’s second chance. He would not get another. If Luke was completely, absolutely a Jedi--

_Danger._

The sudden sense was stronger than anything Vader had felt in years; stronger, and more visceral, as if an alarm bell had gone off in his head. And it was not him. Of course it was not him. It had to do with _Luke._

And suddenly, Vader remembered the significance of _why_ he and Sola Naberrie had been temporarily knocked unconscious. The Alpha had charged straight through the house. She hadn’t stopped; she had been going somewhere. 

And, as Vader saw the tracks ahead of him, as he saw where they led...he knew _exactly_ where the Alpha had gone. 

The hospital. 

_Danger,_ the Force screamed. Louder. 

Darth Vader never ran. Given his prosthetics, it hurt; and as a commanding Sith Lord, he had no _need_ for it. It was absurd. 

But he ran now. 

His son needed him. 

  
  


The Alpha didn’t move immediately. As angry as she must have been, she prowled around the ruined basement of the hospital, the ground shaking with every step. She was going to attack in an instant; Luke had to fire soon, and if he missed this time...it would all be over. His leg was in such pain that he was beginning to see through a red haze. 

_Focus,_ he told himself as the Alpha took another step and he almost fell. _You have to stay focused._

_Have to…_

He edged backward, lifting the lightsaber higher in an attempt to distract the Alpha. Surprisingly, it worked; her eyes darted immediately toward the weapon, probably expecting an attack. Her reflexes were much faster than the Greater krayt’s--that dragon would have taken several more seconds to notice. 

But here, it was her downfall. As soon as she was distracted, Luke sidestepped and fired. 

The acid blast hit her in the upper chest. 

Luke couldn’t believe it; he’d seen her moving, but she hadn’t been fast enough, and he’d actually _gotten her._

And now he had an opportunity. He had to act now. Straining against everything to hold himself steady, Luke lifted his lightsaber and--

A set of claws raked across his abdomen. 

Pain--Luke went down. It was just scratches, only scratches and not cuts--but the Alpha’s claws were larger than the Canyon krayts’, and though the wounds weren’t _fatal,_ Luke could already feel blood begin to swell. 

This was bad. 

On top of everything else, this was very, _very--_

There was a hiss, a growl--the Alpha’s head rushed down toward him. With a yelp, Luke rolled to the side, started to jump up; then went down again, shouting in pain. 

But the Alpha was still coming. He needed to figure himself out. It didn’t matter that he was wounded; he had no other choice but to fight the dragon. 

Gritting his teeth, trying to see through the red haze, Luke drove himself up, forced himself to kneel; and then, pushing with all his strength through the pain in his leg _and abdomen now,_ he finally stood on two feet. He reached for his waist, for--

His lightsaber was gone. 

The realization hit him in a panic: of course. When he’d gone down, he’d let go of the lightsaber…

He didn’t know where it was. He supposed he could reach for the Force, try to figure it out; but in his current state--

Abruptly, as the earth shook, a second realization eclipsed the first one. 

The Alpha was _right on top of him._

Panic and instinct kicked in. Luke didn’t know what had happened, he didn’t know what he was doing...but suddenly the Alpha was at the far end of the corridor. 

How had that happened? 

_The Force, you idiot._ Luke opened his eyes, focused, to find himself on one knee, hands outstretched; and this time, for _once,_ the Alpha had not gotten up immediately. _You used the Force._

It appeared he had a little strength left in him, after all. 

But Luke couldn’t rejoice at that fact; because he knew, without a doubt, that he was absolutely in no shape to fight, let alone stand up. He hadn’t been in any shape to fight when he took on the three Canyon krayts; whatever energy he’d had had been expended killing them. He didn’t have the strength to do this. 

But he had to. 

And he _had_ just pushed the Alpha across the room. 

_I can do this,_ he told himself, though it was getting harder and harder to believe the words. _I can do this. I’m a Jedi._

Then the Alpha stood up, fury in her eyes. 

Terror froze Luke on the spot at the sight of those teeth...the eyes…

For just a moment, a horrifying moment, he was tempted to call for Vader. He was clearly outmatched here, he couldn’t do it--

No. That was not a good option. 

Not at all. 

_Help me,_ he whispered to the Force instead. _Be with me. Be with me. Don’t fail me now._

And Luke felt it; despite the fact that he was essentially half-conscious, he felt it. Its strength gave him strength, and he opened his eyes fully. He stretched out his hands--

At first, there was nothing. Clenching his teeth, Luke pushed harder--

The Alpha slowed down. But she didn’t _stop._

 _More,_ Luke thought, a command to himself. _More._ He called upon everything in him, willed the Force outward, willed the Alpha to stop. 

_Stop._

She slowed even a little more, but kept plowing ahead. 

_Stop._

The Alpha’s next step was triumphantly loud, sending echoes and tremors through the earth; Luke was driven again to one knee, but willed himself to keep pushing. 

_STOP._

Luke thought he had known the meaning of pain. He had thought he’d experienced the worst of it at Bespin--not to mention the last five days--but this was like nothing he had felt before. It felt as if every cell, every molecule inside him was tearing apart, rending itself into a million pieces; there was his exhaustion, and then there was pain. His leg was the worst of it--but there was no longer any point in focusing on _one_ point as the reason for the pain. There was his leg; and then there was his abdomen, and the scratches on his chest, and his head, and the wounds he’d forgotten about: his ankle, his head, and his ribs. 

But none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was _getting the Alpha to stop,_ and he was going to tear himself in two if that’s what it took to stop it from happening _._ This time, his friends weren’t there; most likely, Leia and Ruya were safe by now, though he couldn’t be sure. This time, it was _him._ It was fight or flight, an animal response to danger; and it was either stop the Alpha, or die. 

And Luke did not want to die. 

So he pushed against that monstrous form bearing down on him, Like before, Luke felt himself start shouting, screaming almost, the sound a release of all the pain and desperation he felt as he poured more of himself out, more of the Force; and eventually, _finally,_ the Alpha ground to a halt. 

She was three meters in front of him. 

Luke looked up at the creature that was _right there,_ her maw inches away from his outstretched hands, furious eyes glaring down at him with unsuppressed rage. Luke was alive; but the monster was far from dead, and as he gasped for breath, as his body started to relax, he had to force it not to. To focus his entire will on keeping the Alpha in place...because what was obvious was that he was _just barely_ doing it. With every second, he could feel her struggling against him. It was so, so much harder than keeping the Canyon krayts in place; and, more than anything, _he just wanted to rest._

 _No,_ he told himself, feeling his hold slip, feeling the Alpha’s muscles start to move. _You don’t get to rest until she’s dead._

Now to perform the deed itself. 

Luke took deep breaths, willing himself not to collapse at any moment, as he looked up at the Alpha. It couldn’t be too impossible, could it? All he had to do was make sure he was doing it for everyone on the planet. Sure, it was for his own survival; but if the Alpha killed him, then there would be no one to stop her from killing everyone else. 

“No more,” he said, his voice a rasp. “No more killing. No more destruction. You were never even meant to exist; I have to kill you.” He took a deep breath, holding desperately to the Force that he could feel in him. _Be with me._ He closed his eyes. “I release--”

There was something on his left arm; dragon saliva, his brain registered. 

She hadn’t been close enough to drool on him before. 

Luke’s eyes flew open just in time for the Alpha to open her mouth and latch her teeth around his wrist. 

His feet left the ground; there was the tiniest sensation of pain, as the Alpha’s teeth increased their pressure ever so slightly, and all Luke felt was terror as he was lifted up to the dragon’s eye level, as he saw that gaze focus on him--

 _I have to get away,_ was all he could think; it was the blindly panicked response of an animal. _Have to escape--have to get away--have to--_

_I need help, I need help--_

No, Luke was alone. He had to get out of this himself--he had to--

But _how?_ His wrist was _in the Alpha’s mouth,_ he--

He had the Force. 

He could probably _make_ the Alpha open her jaws. 

At least, he could try. He had to. Because he was right next to her mouth, her arm was there--and he could see triumph in her eyes--

He was not going to die. _Not like_ _this._

So, once more, Luke reached out with the Force towards the Alpha. She snarled at whatever pressure he must be exerting on her, her grip tightened; Luke cried out with the pain, felt a warm wetness trickle down over his arm, but he kept fighting. 

_Let go,_ he thought; he was barely even thinking. All he felt was the intense desire for the Alpha to let him go. _Drop me. Let me go._

Her eyes narrowed. He felt himself drawn forward. Her snout touched his face--

_LET ME GO!_

There was a pressure, a snarl, anger, fury--someone screamed--and then he was falling, falling, all the way down from the Alpha’s mouth. 

He slammed into the ground, his limbs jarred, his vision whiting out; for several short seconds, he was aware of nothing. Nothing at all. 

And then he came back. 

Something...something was off. Something felt strange, and for a moment he just...floated. He was on the ground; he didn’t want to get up. He never wanted to move again. But something was wrong…

Slowly, he blinked his eyes open. The world was twisted at an odd angle--he was lying on the ground--and his head was spinning. He felt light-headed…

But there was danger all around him. 

The world lived and breathed danger; he _wasn’t safe._

 _The dragon,_ his mind whispered, _the Alpha…_

The Alpha. Right. Panic flew through him; and Luke pushed himself up. 

Or he tried to. 

Confused, Luke looked down, tried to raise his arms, but--

He couldn’t. And then, suddenly, it all came crashing down on him and he realized why. 

It was because _the left one was gone._

Or, it wasn’t exactly _gone--_ there was a stump coming from his shoulder--but just above the elbow it had been _ripped off,_ tiny bits of flesh torn and hanging loose, just like Pandaki’s injury several days ago. He could even...he could see his own _bone,_ protruding from the mess that was his arm and the puddle of blood already dripping onto his own lap. 

Luke stared at it dumbly, at the blood and flesh and bone, for several seconds. Not understanding. 

And then it registered, the full truth of it...and the _pain._ As the initial shock vanished, blinding agony set in, and Luke started screaming. It was worse...it was _so much worse_ than even his leg had been, and for a minute the loss of his _entire arm_ was all he could think of. It felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing a knife into the spot where his arm had been, and it was just _gone,_ and the ribbons of flesh that had gone as he yanked himself out of the Alpha’s grip were horrifying to look at, and there was blood on his legs and his chest and everywhere, and he could see his bones, _and his arm was gone--_

_A lightsaber, arcing through his right wrist, screaming--_

But it was the whole arm. 

It was the _whole arm--_

_Thud._

The ever-present sense of danger was all that dragged Luke out of the pain; still screaming, trying to stop himself from screaming, he made himself see through the world tinted by blood and pain. 

The Alpha had just finished eating his arm. 

And, her eyes fixed on him, she had taken a thundering step forward. 

_Thud._

Another one. 

_Thud._

Another. 

She was going to kill him. He couldn’t kill her, he hadn’t been able to, it was all just _too much--_

_His arm was gone--_

And finally, faced with such a terrifying end, knowing now that he couldn’t do anything to stop it, Luke couldn’t hold himself back any longer. Before he knew what he was doing, before he recognized it, he was screaming into the Force. 

_Father!_

_Father, HELP ME!_

But there was no answer, from the father who didn’t love him. None at all. 

And so, with no help on the way, Luke was left to drag himself across the floor, one-handed, as the Alpha approached. 

  
  


Vader was over halfway across the jungle when he felt it. 

He had been monitoring Luke’s presence the entire time, careful of the sense of danger to his son that was constantly there; but besides the occasional spike of pain, nothing terrible happened. He had begun to think that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out all right when--

A blinding wave of agony assaulted him, so terrible that at first Vader thought it was happening to _him._

 _No,_ he thought, for all that he could still sense Luke alive. _No. No, no, no--_

But the intense, terrifying feelings did not subside; rather, they persisted, and grew worse. The pain dimmed, for just a moment; Vader waited, even as he ran faster, and if it had been possible he would have held his breath. 

The next feeling: shock. Luke was...he was in shock. That wasn’t good. Even from this distance, the emotions Vader was feeling were so strong that he could sense it; and if it was taking Luke this long to recognize whatever injury he had, then--

Abruptly, the wait was over, and the equivalent of a mental scream reached Vader, waves of red-hot pain almost overwhelming him in their strength. He clenched his fists, furious, and angry, and...and something else. 

Because he wasn’t there. 

Because he couldn’t do anything about it. 

So he continued to run, hating himself, _despising_ himself for the awful pain his son was in. Whatever dragon was causing this, whichever creature it _happened to be,_ he would tear it to pieces without remorse. He did not care how strong they were, how powerful; all he knew was that whichever animal it was, it would _die._ And it would do so painfully. Whatever pain this _thing_ had inflicted on his son, it would receive _tenfold._ He would never suffer it to hurt Luke ever again, or--

He was interrupted by another sensation from Luke. The steady escalation of pain continued to build; Luke’s shields were anything but existent, and Vader could feel _everything._ Desperation, pain, shock...terror. He could sense it all, and he wished he could stop it. 

_Make it stop,_ he thought as the feelings continued to escalate. _Make it_ stop--

_Father!_

Vader was so shocked he almost stopped in his tracks; he would have, if not for the _current situation._

Luke had not called out to him for help since the first night on Felucia, when the Greater krayt had caught them by surprise and cut off their escape. Vader remembered that suddenly--and wondered why it had so easily faded to the back of his mind--and then it hit him how terrible a situation this was. Luke had been terrified of him, angry, distraught; to call out to him, willingly--

The hospital was near. Vader could see it--

_Father, HELP ME!_

The desperation was more than palpable. It stung, deeply, worse than anything had hurt for the last twenty-two years; and it didn’t stop. Luke thought he was going to die. 

Luke probably _was_ going to die. 

_No,_ Vader thought fiercely. _Not if I have anything to say about it._

Had he been in a different frame of mind, he might have stopped to wonder why he was thinking so _softly_ of his child, so protectively; he might have stopped to wonder about Palpatine, and the Light Side. 

But at the moment, it didn’t matter. The thought didn’t even cross his mind, because the world had dissolved from shades of gray into black and white. Luke was either going to die, or he wasn’t. It was up to Vader to decide it. 

And he was fast running out of time. 

_I am coming,_ he thought back. _Luke, hold on. I’m coming._

But there was no answer. Nothing, nothing at all; not that it didn’t make sense. Luke had to be so distracted by everything else going on that he wasn’t sensing it, but if he couldn’t sense Vader nearly _shouting at him--_

No. 

No, no, _no._

 _HELP!_ Luke screamed at him again. _Please!_

The knot in Vader’s chest twisted, stabbed into his heart. He was coming. He _was_ coming; but something was off with Luke’s ability to use the Force. It was as if he couldn’t sense Vader, not exactly--his father was coming, but he didn’t know it. 

He ran faster, but he was beginning to have the sensation that he would not be there in time; that this would all be in vain. That he would arrive, and Luke would be dead. 

And suddenly he knew what that feeling was, the feeling he hadn’t felt in years, that accompanied the fury and rage. 

The feeling that he associated with his final memories of Padme Amidala, of seeing her body crumple before him, of sensing her life gone from the galaxy forever. 

It was terror. 

He wouldn't make it in time. 

No help was coming. 

Vader wasn’t coming. 

Probably best, in the long run; he wouldn’t have helped Luke anyway. The only person who could was Leia...but she couldn’t have either. In a different sense, of course--with Luke incapacitated like this, she couldn’t take the Alpha alone. 

No one could. 

Maybe he should have left. Maybe he should have left the second he found out about the dragons on Felucia...but then, thousands of people would have died. The dragons would have taken over the ecosystem, they would have multiplied...the eggs would have hatched... 

No, he should never have left. Thousands of people had been saved...but nonetheless…

Why couldn’t this dragon be destroyed? People had escaped, but there was still an entire population to worry about; soon the Alpha would realize she could travel beyond her territory and find new food. 

Why? Why couldn’t he have done it? Was he not _strong enough?_

 _I am,_ Luke tried to tell himself. _I am strong enough._

But at the Alpha’s mercy like this, lying on the ground with an arm missing, and dozens more injuries all over his body, half dead, it was hard to believe. 

“Stop,” he tried to whisper weakly, extending his right arm toward the dragon; but there was no point. He was so exhausted, so disoriented he could barely remember how to reach for the Force in the first place. 

And still the dragon stalked toward him, triumph in her eyes. 

All at once, memories of the people came back: of Pandaki, Dravos, Rin, kind Doctor Alvi...he remembered, viscerally, what they had looked like. Dravos had been bitten in half while still alive. Pandaki...well, Aphra had told him what had happened to _him._ Rin he hadn’t even seen, but still--

They’d been _alive._ They’d been alive for long enough. 

It was one thing to be shot, to feel a momentary glimpse of pain before shock took over and the body failed…

It was another thing entirely to be _eaten alive._

 _Father,_ he thought again, desperately; he couldn’t bear the thought of it. 

Luke had never begged for his life before. He’d never been afraid of death. 

But having witnessed it happen…

_HELP! Please!_

Again, there was no answer. Nothing-- _nothing._

_Thud._

“No,” he found himself saying--whispering, more like--as the Alpha came closer. She was several footsteps away now--she seemed to be savoring the moment--and Luke put his right hand on the floor again. 

It was sticky, wet; that was his own blood. How much had he _lost?_

It didn’t matter. He was going to die. 

_No. No, no, no, I’m not going to die, I’m_ not--

He was in denial. He was in denial, again. 

_Search your feelings,_ Vader’s voice echoed in his head. _You know it to be true._

No. No, it wasn’t true, it was not true…

“Stop,” Luke said; he only felt himself say the words. “STOP!” 

The Alpha didn’t stop. She just kept coming, and Luke continued to drag himself across the floor in his own blood; he could feel it all over him--

He felt it drip down on him, from the stump of his arm--

_I’m going to die--_

He was met with resistance; the wall. He was up against the wall. There was nowhere to go. 

_Thud._

_Father. Father, please, please..._

Luke raised his eyes, slowly, ever so slowly. There were barely fifty meters to go; the Alpha would cover that in about two paces. 

_Thud._

The dragon breathed; Luke felt it on his face, and shuddered. As horrifying as it was, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the Alpha’s head. 

She opened her mouth, ever so slightly. The tips of her long, jagged teeth were painted in blood. 

Luke’s blood. 

And then finally, the realization sunk in; and finally he didn’t care about how he looked, he didn’t care what he sounded like. He started sobbing, tears tracking their way down his face to mix with the blood. 

“Please,” he whispered, both out loud and in his mind. “ _Please,_ Father, I know you’re a Sith Lord--I _know_ you don’t care about me at all, I know you want me to be strong, and I--I--I know I can’t be strong the way you want to be, I know that, I’ve accepted it, I--”

_Thud._

Blind terror shot through him. 

“But I'm going to _die,"_ Luke sobbed, well aware that he wasn’t going to be heard, “If you've ever been capable of any kind of love, please--p-please-- _please_ listen to me. Please, I--I need help--I can’t do it, I’ve tried--” There was no answer, there was nothing. “I’ve tried but I can’t, I _can’t--Father! PLEASE!”_

But once again, there was no answer. 

Why...why...why would he _ignore that?_

Luke let out one last sob. He hated that this was how he was going to die. He wasn’t even standing, he’d have preferred to die on his feet, but…

But it was impossible. 

There was no escape. There was no third option. 

The Alpha looked down at him. 

_Don’t do it,_ Luke thought, _please, please, please--_

The Alpha lowered her head, just like the Greater krayt had done. Desperately, Luke made some last grab for the Force, hoping for a final shred of strength that had existed unawakened in him. 

There was a flicker; and then there was nothing. 

No, there was something. 

There was the sensation of rough, scaly skin against his forehead. 

Luke closed his eyes, horror and terror and revulsion pulsing through him. He wanted to scream. He wanted to sob again, fight, do _anything_ if it kept this thing from killing him. 

_Please, someone..._ anyone…

Luke felt the Alpha’s mouth open; and like a coward, he didn’t want to open his eyes to see it. 

He felt dragon saliva drip onto him, once more. 

Luke Skywalker, the boy from the desert planet, the dreamer, the pilot who became the Rebellion’s hope on his first day, the hope...the son of Darth Vader...was about to be no more. 

It was a strange thing to think about. 

And even here, at the end of all things, at the end of everything he’d experienced over the last month and especially the last six days, he didn’t want to die. 

_I guess the Force has a mind of its own, doesn’t it?_

_Of all the last thoughts to have, I think that’s the stupidest in the galaxy._

The teeth rushed forward, and as a last ditch effort, Luke raised his arm above his head. He was whimpering--he heard himself, vaguely--but he couldn't bring himself to care. 

There was a hiss in the darkness. Like a dragon...

And yet, the Alpha unleashed a violent roar, right in Luke’s face; it drove the breath from his lungs and sent pain through his already spinning head. Then there was a thud--the dragon spun, the tail caught Luke in the side, and for the fourth time that day, he was flung through the air. 

His head slammed into the wall so violently he thought his mind was exploding. For a moment, he saw the world in brilliant colors, a kaleidoscope of reds and greens and oranges and blues...

But still, mercifully, he was not robbed of consciousness--not yet--so with the very last of his strength he opened his eyes, to see why...

Why he wasn't dead.

Why was he not dead? 

The image that met him was almost enough to shock him to full awareness. 

Vader was standing half in front of Luke, shielding him with his body; his lightsaber was drawn. But not just the red one. As Luke watched, stunned, Vader reached out with his left hand...and a second lightsaber was yanked into his hand and ignited. 

The blade was a beautiful, emerald green. 

Luke’s lightsaber. 

“Get away from him,” Vader snarled, more furious than Luke had ever heard him. “Get away from _my son.”_

And suddenly Luke realized just how mistaken he had been. During all those dozens of visions, after every night waking up in a cold sweat, he had seen Darth Vader standing over him with two lightsabers. He had assumed it was to kill him. But it was exactly the opposite. 

The vision, against all odds, had told the truth in the end. Just in a way that was far, far more wonderful and shocking than anything Luke had ever expected. 

His father had come to save him. 

And with that thought, with the sight of Vader standing protectively over him, all of Luke’s exhaustion and pain compounded and crashed down on him.

And then, darkness finally fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well look at that I actually got this out in about four days I have no idea how I did that but it's now 1:15 in the morning and I'm running on pure adrenaline
> 
> I seriously can't believe it. I've planned this chapter, and the next one, for almost two years. It will actually be the second anniversary of when I came up with this fic(not when I wrote it, but when I came up with it) this January. I have wanted to write this chapter for SO LONG, so when dress rehearsal ended two hours earlier than expected tonight, I sat down and slammed the second half of this out. Literally didn't stop writing. I have no idea how I did this when I'm in the middle of a play, and the stressful end of the semester, but I did it. Not all the updates will be this fast; but you can bet the next chapter will be about the same. After that I'm giving myself a break. 
> 
> But I was so determined to get this out, and it feels amazing! (And kind of weird haha) I hope it was worth it!


	46. One Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a brief description of...uh, a wound that happened in the previous chapter.

He had _literally_ arrived just in time. 

The horror of it all was almost too much to bear. Vader had heard Luke screaming, in his mind; he had heard every word, every desperate plea, and had been torn apart by the pain of not being able to let his son know he was coming. In the end, it had been his determination to not let Luke die believing he had been abandoned that had gotten him there in time; he had torn doors off their hinges, blown through walls, destroyed turbolifts and leaped down the shafts in his hurry to get to Luke. And all the while, he had been prepared for some awful sight to meet him. He had been prepared.

But apparently, it had not been enough.

Because now Vader could see _exactly_ _why_ Luke had been in such terrible pain. The Alpha--because it was _her,_ of course it was--had all but ripped his left arm off. He couldn’t see much of it--he didn’t _want to look_ \--but the arm, or what was left of it, was an absolute mess. Bones and muscle were sticking out here and there, and the wound was _dripping_ blood. It was all over the floor, and all over _Luke._

He had to do this quickly. He didn’t know how much blood Luke had lost, but it had to be a lot; he had to get him into medical care, and _fast._

But the awful sight wouldn’t leave him. 

The arm--the echo of Luke screaming for him--

The way the Alpha had thrown him across the corridor, his head cracking into the wall, the way he now lay there motionless--

The image that would remain in his memory forever: of the dragon leaning _over his son,_ of Luke, his face painted in blood, raising his remaining arm over his head, the very picture of fear--

One more second, and it would all have been over. 

The Alpha had to die. And he had to do it quickly. Luke was going to bleed out. 

But in that short space of time, he would make it as painful as he knew how. 

_Thud._

_Thud._

The Alpha stalked towards him, and Vader raised his lightsabers--his, and Luke’s. That was still shocking--he did not know why he’d done it, but it felt right. And it would serve to threaten the dragon further. 

“I do not know if you understand what you have done,” he said, allowing all his anger and rage full reign over his voice. “But that is my _son_ you have almost killed, who you have _tormented,_ and for that you will die.” 

The dragon took another thundering step; Vader raised the sabers higher. 

Then she stopped. 

She tilted her head downwards, to the side--she was looking at Luke--and then back at Vader. She was analyzing the situation. 

To even see her _look_ at Luke--

Enough of her shrewd analyses. Vader had fought her before. It was what she did up until the moment she charged, but he was not patient; nor was he afraid. 

The Alpha took one more step toward him--toward his son. 

Without hesitation, Vader lifted both lightsabers and lunged. 

  
  


Leia ran without thinking about it; she felt numb. Taking Ruya’s hand, she led them both back the way she’d come: up the turbolift, through the children’s wing--Ruya was, fortunately, distracted enough by her injuries not to notice her friend’s body--across the walk, into the rest of the hospital, towards the second floor. That’s where the exit was. 

“Luke’s going to be okay,” she said as she ran, to give Ruya some comfort. “He’s going to be okay.” 

“I know that,” Ruya spoke up. “I don’t think _you_ do.” 

Ruya was right. Sure, Luke had defeated the Canyon krayts, and he had forced himself past his own limits before and succeeded...but there was something else there that Ruya didn’t know. Leia couldn’t put her finger on it, but she _knew_ Luke was in danger, she _knew_ something bad was going to happen, just like she’d known, as they flew the _Falcon_ away from Cloud City, that they shouldn’t be leaving. 

She’d been right then, so…

“Hold on,” she said, stopping them both. 

“We can’t stop,” Ruya said, despite the fact that she looked like she wanted to pass out; she didn’t seem to notice that her right arm was sporadically dripping blood. “Luke gave us time! What if something happens?”

“I’m making sure Luke can get out of here,” Leia told the girl, “even if he wins.”

Ruya crossed her arms. _“When.”_

Leia ignored her; there was no sense in being even more nervous about it. She pulled out her comlink. 

“Wedge,” she said, “I might not have heard you the first time. But _are you coming?_ Ruya and I are trying to escape, Luke--”

“We’re on our way,” said a voice, but it wasn’t Wedge. 

“Mama!” Ruya shrieked excitedly. 

“Ruya,” Sola said, and even through the comlink Leia could _hear_ the mixed relief and anxiety in her voice. “Are you all right?”

Ruya looked down at her arm, for the first time seeming to notice she was injured. In alarm, she looked back up. 

“Yes,” she said. 

“She’s not _exactly_ all right,” Leia said, shooting Ruya a look. “But she’s nowhere near dead, Sola. She’s walking.” 

“Good. Watch her until we get there. Where’s Luke?”

“He’s…” Leia swallowed. _He’s all right, he’s fine, he’ll be all right--_ “He’s fighting the Alpha.” 

“The _Alpha?”_ Now Sola really sounded worried. “We’re taking off now. We’ll be there in seven minutes.” 

There was a click, and she hung up. 

“All right,” she said, taking Ruya’s hand. “Let’s go. We need to be at the exit in seven--”

Suddenly Leia was hit by a _horrible_ feeling, a wave of agony, so awful and so real that Leia cried out and doubled over in pain. She didn’t understand it; she couldn’t understand it. All she could do was hope for it to be over…

“Leia!” Ruya’s small voice was saying over and over. “Leia, are you okay?”

The pain wasn’t real. It wasn’t happening to her; they needed to leave. She forced herself out of the agony, dragging herself back up, gasping and shuddering for breath. 

What...what in the galaxy had…

Even as she had the thought, a scream echoed from far behind them.

_Luke._

That was it, she realized in a moment of horror; it was just like on Bespin. Leia had felt what Luke was feeling, but this time it was even stronger, even more filled with pain and agony and a thousand other feelings she couldn’t sort out. 

But _why_ was she feeling it? She had thought that was only something Jedi could do, but…

_No. Don’t think about it._

_You need to help him._

“What’s wrong?” Ruya asked her. 

“We need to go,” Leia said, grabbing the child’s hand. “The _other_ way. Luke needs our--”

She spun around...and froze. 

It was the spitting dragon. 

No. No, no, _no--_ Leia had thought there were no more dragons, she’d thought they were all dead...but then she remembered that she hadn’t killed this one. They’d fired at it from the _Falcon,_ had saved Aphra’s life...and they’d scared it off. Because, of course, this had been _before_ the acid, so the lasers hadn’t done anything, and--

The dragon moved. 

“Leia…” Ruya whispered, huddling closer to her side. Right. Right, she needed to do something, but--

_But she’d given Luke the acid blaster._

And now she had nothing. Well, she had an ordinary blaster, but that wouldn’t do anything--

The dragon made a sound in its throat, tilted her head; to an ordinary bystander, she might have simply looked curious, but Leia was no fool. This dragon was hunting them, and--

“Move!” she told Ruya, a second before something sprayed from the dragon’s mouth. The poison hit the wall behind them with a sharp _thwap._

With a gasp, Leia was back on her feet, pulling Ruya with her. Seven minutes, Sola had said seven minutes; but they couldn’t dodge this dragon’s spit forever...and there was also no guarantee that it was just going to keep spitting at them. 

Sooner or later, it was bound to do something…

The dragon lifted its head again. More spray. Leia dragged Ruya backward, off the catwalk; it was all she could do. She felt paralyzed with fear, and--

_HELP ME!_

Luke. 

He was still down there; still alive, but he might not have much time left. 

A sudden noise came from the Spitting krayt; it started as a rattle in the back of the creature’s throat, then a hiss, then a roar. It was about to attack, about to finish them off--

It lunged. 

Luke shouted something else. 

Something deep, something visceral woke up inside her--something she hadn’t known existed, or that she had, and hadn’t acknowledged. But she didn’t think about it; all she knew was that she was angry, and she _hated_ these dragons, more than she’d hated any creatures in her life. 

A scream echoed. 

Slowly, the feeling dissipated, melted away. And then Leia opened her eyes...and stared. 

The Spitting krayt was lying against the wall, motionless; its head was twisted at an unnatural angle, and...and it was dead. 

She looked around, puzzled, shocked, but--

There was no one. 

_She_ had killed the dragon. 

But...but that didn’t make sense. It had been here...and now it was on the other side of the room, and she hadn’t used a blaster, and…

“No way,” Ruya said. Still stunned, Leia looked down at her; the girl was grinning. “That’s so awesome! Why didn’t you tell me you were a Jedi?”

A Jedi. 

That was right; only a Force user could have done that. But…

But Leia _didn’t…_

“I’m not a Jedi,” she said quietly. “I haven’t been trained.” 

And that was all true. _That_ was true, certainly, and yet…

And yet, she _was_ Force sensitive. 

She didn’t know how she hadn’t known before now--but suddenly, it all made sense. The way she’d heard Luke in her head, at Bespin and now--those whispers of danger, the way she’d _known_ that something bad had happened--

Right. Something bad. Luke. 

It was almost impossible to shake herself out of the shock of what had just happened, what she had just _realized about herself,_ but there would be time to deal with that later. 

And then there came a welcome sound: the roar of an engine, just outside the hospital. 

The _Falcon._

“Come on,” she said, grabbing Ruya’s hand. “Your mother’s out there, let’s go!” 

If Sola was here, they’d better get to her first; it would be absurd, Leia realized, to bring Ruya back down to where the Alpha was. 

But, Leia realized, she hadn’t heard anything from Luke for some time. Not since she had killed the dragon. If she had to take time to bring Ruya to her mother…

She just hoped they’d be in time to save Luke. 

  
  


Lightsabers could not kill this dragon. (At least, not without the acid; and at the present moment, Vader did not want to take the time to find where the blaster was.) But that did not mean the creature was entirely impervious to them. Vader brought both blades against her with all the strength he possessed; and given that that was probably more strength than she was used to dealing with, for a moment she stepped back, snarling. 

Then, seeming to realize that the weapons were not doing her any harm, she swiped at both of them; Vader moved out of the way and lifted the lightsabers again. It had been a long time since he had wielded two at once, but he adapted quickly, and once again drove her back, made the dragon try to swipe the blades from his hands again. 

And then again, leading her away from Luke; she must stay away from Luke. Additionally, he hoped all this dodging and lunging would wear her out. He attacked, drove the blades upward; she lunged at him, and missed. So far, it seemed that the plan was working. He attacked again--

She swiped, and did not miss. Something went off in his suit; lights flashed. 

For a moment, Vader stopped. It was his life support. She’d damaged it, somehow, and already he was feeling the effects. 

It was already just a little harder to breathe…

But then, almost unconsciously, Vader’s gaze was drawn to the side and slightly behind him. Luke was lying there motionless, mouth slightly open, blood all over him. He looked so...so _utterly_ vulnerable. 

If Vader stopped fighting for one moment, his child would die.

Vader clenched his fists, steeled himself, and--it was the cooling system. The cell had been pushed out of place; and slowly, with the Force, he pushed it back where it belonged. 

He would take a thousand injuries if that was what it took to kill the Alpha. 

Then, with that problem fixed, he lunged once more. The dragon, for a moment, looked legitimately _surprised--_ she stared at him, her eyes actually widening, before letting out a hiss. 

But now Vader was done wearing her out. He dodged her attack once more; and then, that done, he switched off both lightsabers and clipped them to his belt. 

The Alpha seemed to be done playing as well. She charged straight for him. 

Vader didn’t even flinch; this was the moment, here and now. This was the dragon’s death. 

Raising his fist, he threw all the strength and anger he possessed right at her. 

The corridor, the earth, the entire hospital, shook and trembled as the Alpha fought against the invisible hold; but eventually, slowly, she was dragged to a stop. But it didn’t end there. Vader refused to let it end there, because the Alpha was going to _die._ She had kept him from taking Luke with him multiple times in a row, had injured his son repeatedly and possibly brought him to the brink of death; and as she let out hoarse shrieks, as she fought, as fury bloomed in her eyes, Vader felt a moment of grim triumph. She was _going to die._

Behind him, Luke gasped for air. 

And suddenly, Vader remembered _why_ the Alpha had not died until now. He remembered why, every time he had _tried_ to kill her, he had been unable to. He remembered _exactly why_ this entire ordeal had lasted five days. 

It had been because he was so angry, so impatient with this entire Force-damned situation that, each time he attempted to kill the Alpha, he had accidentally hurt his son. 

He could not hurt Luke. 

Luke was already damaged _enough_ from all this, he was _unconscious,_ and _Vader could not kill him._ He had come here to _save_ him. 

Luke could not die, he _could not die--_

So Vader stopped. 

But then, the Alpha took a step forward; Vader was forced to reach out again, to stop her, trying to channel his focus differently--

Luke’s Force presence dipped dangerously. 

_What_ was Vader supposed to do? Could he not simply kill the Alpha? He had control. He _had control,_ or he had thought he did…

No. No, it wasn’t about that. He could not stop to think. The Alpha had to die.

And Luke had to live. 

_Luke must live._

Suddenly Luke’s presence bounced back; he was still alive. Still there. 

And the Alpha was still held frozen by the Force. 

Vader was relieved--relieved, but puzzled. What had happened? What had he done? 

He looked at Luke again, looked at his son...and then he knew. 

He had thought of Luke, in the moment. Not the dragon, not even his anger...just Luke. Just _his son._

For the first time in a very, very long time, hope rose in his heart. Was it possible to kill in this way? Thinking...of others? He had not had to do it for so long; in fact, he wondered if he had _ever_ done it. 

_No,_ something seemed to snarl in his mind. _No! He is worthless if he cannot destroy the dragon, if he is not strong enough--_

_If he is not strong enough, then Palpatine will make you kill him._

Vader almost stopped, then; almost stopped holding the Alpha in place, almost stepped away…

Then he looked back at his son. 

He was curled up against the wall, his face slack, skin pale; he looked even closer to death than he had before. The puddle of blood around him was steadily growing. But more than that…

More than that, he looked so small. So fragile, so young, so...so...he did not even have the words for how he felt to see Luke like that. 

And suddenly the instinct he had attempted to suppress for so long, the instinct to protect his child, the only thing he had left in the entire galaxy, rose up in him. All that mattered was making sure Luke lived. Regardless of what happened next, that was all that mattered. 

_He will die now if I do not save him. If all I am doing is making sure that he will live one more day, then so be it._

That was it. Somehow, it felt right; and slowly, Vader turned back and focused all his will on the Alpha. 

_I want Luke to live,_ he thought. _All I want is for my son to live._

The Alpha hissed in a breath. She fought, shrieked--and Vader squeezed harder. 

Luke did not gasp for breath. He remained still. Unharmed. 

_The dragon has harmed my son. That is why I want her to die._

_Luke has to live._

_Luke will_ not _die._

And still he pushed...and yet, the Alpha did not die. Vader clenched his other fist in frustration; why wasn’t the dragon dying? 

_If you do not kill her, Luke will die._

It was, in a way, survival of the fittest. 

Vader looked back at Luke again--at the way he was lying against the wall, covered in blood. His child. At the hands--or claws, rather--of this dragon. 

Something in him snapped, then. Anger rose up in him, deep, dark fury; but not only that. There was something else, something that he could not put a name to--but the moment he felt it, the Force rose with it. For the first time in days, he felt control again; he felt as if he could command the power in him and in the galaxy and do whatever he wanted. 

He stared down the Alpha. He soaked up the feeling of that power inside him.

And then, he released all of it. 

He saw it at once. The Alpha’s eyes widened. Vader reached out, then, towards her...and behind his mask, he smiled. 

For the first time in her life, the Alpha was afraid. 

But he did not dare give up now; he knew, after five days, not to underestimate her. So he continued to pour his rage--and that other feeling--into her, not bothering to question the kind of power he was using. He was killing the Alpha, that’s all he knew; killing her for torturing, for wounding, for nearly killing his only son. He had promised that whatever she had done to Luke she would receive tenfold; and that was what she received. He felt her pain, felt her agony, her desperate, desperate desire for the pain to end...and he reveled in it. 

Because that was exactly what he had felt from Luke. 

If the power he was using were able to take a physical shape, it would look like a storm. The storm that lived inside Vader, inside the man who used to be Anakin Skywalker, had raged for so long, quiet and suppressed; and now he had no qualms about letting it out.

They were both monsters, he and the Alpha--and in the end, all monsters deserved to die. 

Unfortunately for the Alpha, his time had not yet come. 

_Die,_ he willed, _for nearly killing my son._

The Alpha’s eyes bulged. Her giant tongue flapped out of her huge jaws--the jaws stained with Luke’s blood--her head wavered, tail shook; and finally, she opened her mouth and let out a _horrible_ scream. It was a good thing Vader was encased in such a suit; if not, the sound might have shattered what remained of his eardrums. The scream, the _roar_ echoed throughout the hospital, shaking what was left of the walls. And still Vader did not relent. 

Then, finally, the ascendant queen of the jungle trembled. Her movement slowed...and then stopped altogether. 

Vader held on for just a second more before releasing her. 

She toppled over. With a thundering crash that shook the earth and the foundations of the hospital, the Alpha, the mutant that was never supposed to exist, landed...and was no more.

  
  


Leia hadn’t returned. 

Luke hadn’t returned. 

There was no sign of _anyone._

The last of the transports was ready to leave the planet; the rest had gone. But although Chewie and Artoo were anxiously guiding her towards the transport, Aphra refused to leave. 

She couldn’t. 

Not after this; not after so long fighting with both of them, after she’d given up what remained of her sentimentality for these two idiots. 

“Stop,” she snapped as the droid approached her once again. “I’m not leaving them, okay? I’m surprised _you_ want me to. You’re supposed to care about them, aren’t you?” 

_Of course we do,_ Artoo said. _That is an insult. But if there are more dragons here, they would not want to come back to find_ you _gone._

“Well--there _aren’t_ any more dragons, because Luke and Leia went chasing after the last of them!” Aphra crossed her arms. “I don’t care what you think _they_ would want. I’m going to make sure they come back. And if I go another minute without seeing one of them, I’m going to go down there myself and kick the Alpha to--”

A roar from outside stopped her. She turned to look. 

It was the _Falcon._ Aphra couldn’t tell yet who was there; but she wasn’t waiting any longer. 

“Well,” she gestured to Chewie and Artoo, “come on!” 

_I told you that you shouldn’t have worried,_ Artoo said, rolling along after her and Chewie. 

“You need to get reprogrammed,” Aphra muttered under her breath. 

Then she stopped. 

They hadn’t reached the _Falcon_ yet, but from a distance, she could see who was running towards it. She could hardly believe her eyes. There was Leia; Leia, looking safe and whole and...well. Not exactly whole. One arm was bleeding. But she was alive. And Ruya was there, too, and--

And--

No one. 

At least, not the person Aphra was looking for. 

“I--” She turned to look at Artoo. “I don’t see Luke.” 

_No._

It couldn’t be true, it couldn’t--

It wasn’t true. At least, she wouldn’t let it be true. 

Clenching her fists, Aphra ran the rest of the distance to the _Millennium Falcon._

  
  


The hospital was silent. 

For several long seconds, Darth Vader simply stood there...and stared. Stared at the floor that had once been white, at the crumbling ruin of the hospital he stood in; at the giant dragon, the most terrifying thing to ever roam the planet. She was lying now in a pool of her own blood; she must have bitten down on her tongue several times, in her struggle to escape her imminent death. To the end, she had done what she had been designed to do: fight for her place at the top of the food chain. 

None of that mattered, however. She had needed to die. And it had felt unbelievably good to do it. Because…

Luke. 

Drawn out of his reverie, his shock that the monster that had been the bane of his existence for days was finally _dead,_ Vader turned. Luke was still there; nothing had changed. A quick touch of the Force revealed that Luke was still definitely alive...but that that status was precarious. 

He hesitated for one moment before walking quickly to the boy’s side and dropping to his knees. 

And stared. 

He wanted to bring the Alpha back to life and kill it all over again. 

Because Luke looked like _death._ He was absolutely covered in blood. It was smeared all over his remaining hand, his arm, on his legs and chest, his face. What he could see of Luke’s face was utterly pale, white as a sheet; and then, obviously, there was the matter of his _arm._ It looked awful this close up. It had not been cleanly severed, not in the least; there was a long bone sticking out, and farther down it tapered into muscle and bits of flesh. The arm had literally been ripped off, and it almost made him sick. 

He had to bind it; he had to stop the bleeding. But...it would not be perfectly wrapped, due to how uneven the wound was. 

And Vader _refused_ to cut off what was left of Luke’s arm with his lightsaber.

He did not want to deal with that memory. 

So, very carefully, he tore a strip from his cape--he had plenty of them; it would not matter to him--and pressed it against the arm. He hoped it would not be too painful; but Luke didn’t respond. Emboldened, Vader tied it around the wound, as best as he could. It was awkward--it would not staunch the bleeding as well as he wanted it to. But it would do it. 

And now…

Vader couldn’t explain it. He didn’t know why he felt such a need to wake Luke up; but that would be a sure sign that his son was all right. 

He reached forward, ever so slowly; if his hand had been flesh it would have been trembling. Then--

_You fool. You cannot care about him._

_I need to make certain that he is all right._

Vader placed his hand on Luke’s cheek, not caring for the blood that touched his glove. Luke didn’t respond to that, but he hadn’t expected him to. 

“Luke,” he said; but there was no response to that either. This was...worrying. “Son. Can you hear me?”

Once again, Luke did not respond. It was...it was as if he was actually dead. 

And now, Vader began to panic in earnest. He knew Luke was alive. He knew it. He could feel it. And yet…

Desperate, he placed both his hands around Luke’s face and lifted his son’s head and upper torso off the ground. Again, Luke did not respond; his mouth hung slightly open, and his face was slack. 

_“Luke,”_ Vader said, hating the fear he could hear in his own voice; he was not supposed to be _afraid._ It was absurd. And yet--and yet, _Luke needed to wake up._ “Luke! _Do you hear me?”_

Luke did not respond. 

A terrible thought struck Vader. What if he never woke up again? What if he was so injured, so terribly concussed that he fell into a coma? What if he was alive, there, but...never conscious again? 

That would be almost as terrible as Luke being dead. 

Vader would _not have it._

Furiously, he dove into Luke’s mind, searching for the answer he _wanted._ The answer he _needed._ Searching, searching, past the shields that had crumbled, past feelings of terror and desperation--

There. There, there was something--a thought. 

_Father!_ Vader could almost hear the word in Luke’s voice. It struck him to the heart; he had done nothing father-like, the entire time he had known Luke was his son. _Father, help me--please help me._

 _I am, little one,_ Vader told him; maybe this was what it would take to wake him up. _I have been terrible to you; I should have been here, this entire time, helping you. But I am here now. I am_ here, _Luke._

For a moment, there was nothing. Nothing, and then--

_Help me, please. Father…_

What? What was happening? Vader had literally told him that he was here--

But as he looked at Luke, as he took stock of the situation, he at last understood. He had been right, at least partially, in his worries; Luke was more than unconscious. He was in some kind of coma, stuck in the terrifying moment the dragon had attacked him; stuck in limbo, as it were. 

No. No, Luke was going to wake up. He would be all right. 

_Wake,_ Vader demanded, with all the strength he possessed. It had worked once before, after all. _Wake UP!_

Once again, there was nothing. 

_No. Please, please--_

Vader had not begged for anything in years. It was something that was unthinkable; he had not done that since he was a _Jedi._ And even then, he had rarely done it at all. 

But he needed his son to wake up. 

He needed to see him awake. He needed to see the blue eyes focus on him, hear his voice...see the heartwarming smile, even if it wasn’t directed at him. 

“Please, Luke,” Vader said--out loud, and in his mind. “ _Please._ I...I have been terrible. I have done things so horrible, I...I nearly _killed_ you. It would be what I deserve for you to never wake up again...and it would be a mercy for you as well, to never be conscious of a world where _I_ am your father. But...but I am selfish. I need to see you, I need _you.”_ His hands tightened, desperately, on Luke’s face; but it never once stirred, never once changed expression. “Please wake up, if only for a minute. _Please.”_

But as always, Luke remained limp and motionless--and that echo of a cry for help continued to run on a loop in his mind. 

Vader dropped one hand in a clenched fist; he let the depth of his anger soar, unchecked...anger at _himself,_ more than anything. That was what he had felt, the anger he had channeled to kill the Alpha, he realized; that was the age-old fury that was his constant companion. But this time there was no Alpha to kill. There was only himself. 

Vader bowed his head. 

Luke was not going to wake up. 

And suddenly that same fatherly instinct pulled at him. Immediately, that voice in his mind cried out against it, to stop, to think only of himself; because those he loved had never done him any good. They had all been taken from him. But this was his _son,_ he had seen sense too late--and as a result, he was not going to be able to see Luke open his eyes. At least, not immediately--not that he knew of. 

He could no longer resist. And so, overcome by grief and anger and desperation and the full extent of his self-loathing, he reached down, taking hold of Luke under his shoulders and knees--pulled him into his arms, cradled the boy, _his boy,_ against his chest, careful with the injured arm. Careful with Luke in his entirety, because he looked fragile, _felt_ fragile, fragile and breakable, and so much had happened to him that Vader was very aware that he had greater strength than most men, and did not want to accidentally hurt his son. 

Hurt him more than he had already hurt him, that is. 

Luke didn’t resist; he was as still as death, and he didn’t resist, and so Vader clutched him tightly in his arms, pressed his son’s head against his chest, marveled at how it felt to actually hold his son for the first time...and wanted nothing more to scream to the world, to the Force, of the cruel fate of letting him see sense too late. Much, much too late. 

_I am sorry, Luke,_ Vader thought; to Luke, he supposed, but he knew his son would not be able to hear him. _I am so unbearably sorry. This...this is all my fault._

He knelt there for an undetermined amount of time, holding Luke in his arms, rocking him back and forth...and wishing to all the galaxy that he were dead. 

The only thing that would have stopped him from actually doing it was the fact that Luke was still _alive._ There was no guarantee that he would wake up again; but if he was alive, there was just a chance. If he got him into the right medical care. 

But even so...even so Luke did not deserve him. 

Monsters deserved death, in the end. If Luke _were_ dead, it would be time for his after all. 

A light drew him out of his thoughts, temporarily--a soft light, peeking through the ruins of the hospital, through the ash and dust and blood. Curious, Vader looked...and froze. 

The sun. 

The sun was rising, on the most wonderful and the most terrible day he had ever known.

And with the sun came the realization: the sixth day had arrived. 

He had, as per his original order, the order that could not be denied, roughly twenty hours to bring Luke to his Master. To Palpatine.

To his death.

Then he might as well kill him now, Vader thought bitterly. There was no way that Luke would wake up in twenty hours. 

But the moment he cast his gaze on the lightsabers, both of them lying on the ground, he turned away. He could not do it. He would never have been able to do it, even on Bespin; especially not now, not after he had gone to this effort to _save him._

_I did not save my son only to kill him._

Obviously, Palpatine would not order Luke killed right away; not if he hadn’t felt the disturbance that had come with Luke surrendering himself so fully to the Light. But even then...to hand his son over to Palpatine in this condition…

Why was he thinking like this? 

What was it to deliberately _disobey_ Palpatine? His Master had not given him everything he had wanted; far from it. But he had shown him what it meant to be a Sith. He had saved his life...and Palpatine had shown, time and time again, that he did understand what Vader felt. The reluctance, the initial reluctance to surrender to the Dark; and the self-loathing that accompanied it. Palpatine knew that, and had helped Vader. He had taught him everything.

Palpatine had even given him a second chance. This was his second chance--

_But I cannot hand Luke over to him._

But why? Why could he not? _What_ was so wrong with that? 

Vader knew the answer. It came easily; all he had had to do was ask the question. What was wrong with it? What was wrong was that he knew what the cost of becoming a Sith would be. If Luke ever woke up again, Palpatine would destroy him. He would destroy every last hope inside him, everything that made Luke who he was…

Everything that made Vader want to live again. 

Because that was what it was. That was what he had tried so hard to avoid for the last six days: the desire, every time he was around Luke, to...to make him _happy._ To see his son happy, to see him smile, to see him talk about the things he loved and be free. He had been on such a terrible time limit; without that ultimatum, he may have not felt the need to act that way. 

No. No, that was a poor excuse. He would have. 

But it was that instinct that had been so ignored, so squashed down; that was what he wanted, deep down. To _get to know Luke,_ his only son, the only thing _left_ of…

Padme. 

It hurt to think her name, but...Sola was right. He needed to. And suddenly as he thought her name, he could see her face. He could see her smile--Luke’s smile--could see the way her curls spun with her as she turned around to look at him, adoration in her face. He could see the laugh lines around her eyes. He could feel her as she threw herself against him, relieved that he was home. 

The light of his life. 

Vader closed his eyes, remembering--remembering his life as Anakin, and for once not remembering in agony. Remembering his life with Padme Amidala; the best of it, not the worst, as he has grown accustomed to thinking. Why she had chosen him, he did not understand. He did not deserve her. He never had, from beginning to end.

But he had to think of her. He could not let her memory die; and part of that memory was kept alive in Luke. 

And it would all die if he allowed Luke to be taken by Palpatine. 

_But what will happen if you disobey?_

He hardly knew the meaning of disobedience. It had been a natural instinct in him, to disobey; but that had been squashed and crushed and broken down, time and time again, until all he knew was obedience. He did not know, in any sense, how to think for himself any longer. That desire had all but been destroyed. 

He could not disobey Palpatine. 

He could not, he _could not_...because he couldn’t bear to dwell on the consequences. It was unthinkable.

And yet…

Vader looked down at his son’s face, almost peaceful in sleep. So innocent, so young…

A father would protect his son. 

Protecting Luke would mean keeping him away from Palpatine. Vader didn’t know when that had become so obvious...but it was. 

_Are you a Sith?_

_Or are you a father?_

It did not feel possible to do both; but he could never be a Jedi again. He knew that. It was impossible. 

But being a father...was more attainable. 

_Palpatine has been a father to you._

_Palpatine has been the replacement of a father in your life. You needed one, from a young age, and he has been…_

_Fuck Palpatine,_ Sola had said. _Fuck everything that is commanding you to kill your own son!_

The feeling began to stir again--that feeling that had risen at the same time as his anger, and had allowed him to kill the Alpha without harming Luke. He still didn’t know what it was, but…

_You’re a parent. You have a child. All that matters is protecting him!_

Vader looked at Luke again, so small in his arms; and then he could imagine what Luke had been as a baby, and what it would have felt to hold that tiny form in his arms. To put him to bed. To put him back to sleep when he woke from a nightmare. To be...to be an _ordinary father._

And at the same time, he remembered how he had felt when the Greater krayt attacked for the first time; when he had pulled Luke against him, not thinking, only desperate to keep his son alive. 

Why was he not thinking that now? 

Where had that thought gone? Where had that feeling gone? That was all he had been thinking then, to protect, because even though Luke was an adult he was still young, still a child, still in need of protection, and--

Suddenly Vader knew what the feeling was. As he remembered Padme--as he felt Luke now, and remembered wanting, _needing_ to protect him. 

The feeling was love. 

It had come too little, too late. But it was there; and in the one moment when he had control over his destiny, Vader knew what he had to do. 

If Luke were to wake again, if he were to wake at all, he...he must let him go. 

He would not take him to Palpatine. He would send him wherever he wanted to, back to his friends, back to the _cursed_ Rebellion, as horrifying as the thought was; because Jobal Naberrie had been right. 

He needed to think of what Luke wanted. 

The idea was revolting--to disobey Palpatine so blatantly, to let his son go and disobey the mandate he had been given. It made Vader want to recant it immediately, to take it back, to force Luke to come with him. 

But he did not want Luke to become what he was. That was clear now. 

Once upon a time, all he had had was Palpatine. In the wake of the Empire’s rise and Padme’s death, he had had nothing. No one. Except for Palpatine. It was natural to latch onto the man who had become like a father to him…

But now, Palpatine was not all he had. 

Now, he had Luke. 

_If there is a shred of mercy in the universe at all,_ he thought, _if Luke wakes...I will let him go. I will give him what he wants; and for the first time in my life, I will do what I_ want. 

_I want to be a father to my only son._

The realization was more than a shock; but as Vader thought about it, about the sadness that would come with letting his son go, the horror that would follow afterwards as Palpatine punished him...he knew that it would be right. 

Slowly, he drew out his comlink. In a moment, Veers had answered. 

“My lord,” he said, and Vader took a moment to think that his general had never sounded so relieved. “I take it that things are all right?”

“More or less,” Vader said, looking down at Luke. “Send a shuttle down for me. Immediately.” 

“It is ready, Lord Vader.” 

With a click, Veers was gone. 

And then, something echoed in the distance. 

_Thud._

Horrified, Vader realized that it had already been echoing; and he had been so distracted that he had not heard it. 

Slowly, he readied himself. Whatever dragon was coming, he would kill it. He would do whatever it took, but...but he could not deal with any more distractions. He had wasted enough time. He needed to get Luke to safety, and…

_Thud._

The dragon rounded the corner. 

It was the Greater krayt. 

But even as Vader prepared himself to remove Luke and stand...he realized it was not just the Greater krayt. There was a hatchling dragon at her side; a young Greater krayt. 

The hatchling that Venka had released all those days ago, he realized. It must be. And whether she was the mother or not...she was standing over the hatchling protectively. 

The Greater krayt, too, had frozen. She was not attacking him. Of course, Vader had not moved; but additionally, she was looking down at Luke. 

Vader could have attacked her. He could have killed her easily. But he was weary. And additionally, in that moment, he felt kinship with the Greater krayt, the dragon that had caused them all misery from the beginning. 

“Let us live,” he said instead, “and I will do the same to you.” 

It felt wholly disgusting to say the words--to spare any kind of creature, especially a worthless dragon, a dragon who had wanted to kill them. But she showed no sign of attacking. 

She stared at Vader for a long time, her yellow eyes taking in the scene.

Vader tightened his arms around Luke, as he had at the beginning, and did not take his eyes off her either. 

And then, miraculously, she seemed to understand. She dipped her head down towards the hatchling at her side. The hatchling squeaked; and then, with a thud, the Greater krayt turned around. The hatchling followed. 

And slowly, very slowly, the mother and baby disappeared into the jungle. 

There came the roar of an engine outside; the shuttle, Vader realized. It had arrived. It was time. 

“You will come with me,” he said softly to Luke, even though he knew his son could not hear him. “If only for a little while. You must allow me to be selfish for just a little longer.” 

_As long as it takes you to wake up._

With the utmost gentleness--as much as he had had to use in years--Vader tightened his hold on Luke’s shoulders and knees and stood up, taking his child with him, once again careful of the arm. Luke was alarmingly light, he realized; it was the blood loss, probably compounded with a half dozen other things. 

He needed medical care. 

He needed it, like life or death. 

The shuttle had landed. Vader could see it. 

And so he stepped through the rubble, moving what he had to with the Force, and then walking out of the hospital to the shuttle, slowly, ever so slowly for the sake of the burden in his arms. Luke’s head lolled on his shoulder, forehead pressing against Vader’s chestplate; he tightened his arms further, his heart twisting at the sensation of it. 

If only Luke would open his eyes, or move at _all._ If only he would do more than just lay there and breathe shallowly. 

_I do not care what happens next. I do not care what the consequences are._

_All I want is to see you wake up._

_And then, if you do...if you so desire, I will let you go. I promise._

The ramp was lowered for him. He saw the pilot give him a look of alarm, at the sight of who exactly he was carrying with him; but Vader did not care. 

_You are my son. All I want is to see you happy._

Nothing had happened yet. Luke had not woken up; and if he ever did, Vader would have so much to atone for. He would not be surprised if Luke never forgave him. 

But thinking those words at all felt like a rebellion of some sort. 

The ramp closed. The shuttle took off. 

Behind them, the foundations of what had first been the laboratory, and then the hospital, crumbled; and the building finally collapsed. 

Slowly, the sun rose overhead. 

It was a fitting end--more than poetic. A sign that even the Force itself knew that LARS should never have come to be.

If that was the only good thing to come out of this day, then so be it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh...oh my GOSH. This is...I have no words. Obviously, I haven't finished the fic yet. But this is the culmination of what I've wanted to write for almost two years(well, almost the culmination). It feels unreal, and I'm...very emotional tonight. I cried a few times. Additionally, I don't know if I'll have updates immediately after this; three chapters in a week is...unusual for me these days, haha. But I HAD to do it this week. I had to get these chapters out, and it's felt amazing.  
> Happy Thanksgiving to my American readers!
> 
> Additional note: A specific moment in this chapter was partially inspired by [this wonderful art](https://coralnoodle.tumblr.com/post/635505397786148864/azalea-scroggs-you-want-sad-huh-there-you-go) by the AMAZING coralnoodle!
> 
> NOTE 11/27/2020: This is going on hiatus. I do not know when I will be back, but something has come up in my life and I need to take an indefinite break.


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